


Gold and SLVR: Metamorphosis

by YuriKah



Series: Gold and SLVR [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Everybody Lives, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, Major Original Character(s), Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Post-Volume 3 (RWBY), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 212,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuriKah/pseuds/YuriKah
Summary: Post Volume 3, due unforeseen circumstances in which unknown actors and forces opposed Cinder and her allies, the Fall of Beacon never occurred. Instead, the enemy forces were convincingly routed and regular life resumed for our heroes in team RWBY. Meanwhile, in the backdrop to all this, Yang and Weiss have started a secretive relationship with one-another. Weiss must keep it a secret from her homophobic Father. There will be challenges for them to overcome, but Yang Xiao Long and the fellow members of her team are always up for a challenge.However, threats are still ever looming over Remnant, and team RWBY will have to do their very best to protect those they love. Will they succeed? Or will their world tumble into never ending darkness?Author's note: Formerly known as "She's Got The Hots for Me"





	1. Let's Yang out, Weissy

Blake Belladonna was enjoying her afternoon in her dorm with the rest of the contingent that made up the rest of team RWBY after a lengthy day of lectures and note-taking from the likes Port, Oobleck and most of all, Professor Goodwitch. Blake was a fairly attentive and thorough student, perhaps not on the level of Weiss nor could she realistically compete with Heiress in terms of grades on tests, but she was certainly more concerned with her gradings than her partner, Yang Xiao Long. Yang was a free soul, cheery and supportive, what she lacked in academic skill she more than made up in personality and skill on the battlefield, but despite this she and the rest of her team were at the forefront of lectures when she scraped a passing grade from one of the many quizzes or tests Goodwitch gave them to distinguish the “troubled” students from the capable and flawless students. Even so, she also graded students based on their teams as well in terms of a cumulative grades, informing them that their teamwork doesn’t stop outside of the battlefield, and therefore all of them had to be capable of passing, or else they weren’t cohesive enough as a unit. Even so, despite the numerous lectures Goodwitch spent attempting to discipline Yang about her academic performance, it didn’t stop the Blonde brawler from lazily lying down on her bed and playing whatever app-based game on her scroll instead of studying, though Blake couldn’t particularly criticize her partner as instead of doing the responsible thing and finishing the essay for Oobleck’s class for the end of the week, she was reading the newest release of Ninjas of Love. But at least her distraction for work was literary based, and therefore at least somewhat respectable and a healthy exercise for one’s brain, all Yang was doing was trying to beat her high score for consecutive wins on Kung Fu Ninja Slayer Ultimate Death Battle II. Which, whilst Blake had a guilty pleasure of playing the video game herself, something none of her teammates could ever know, especially Yang as she had enough ammunition to tease Blake over, wasn’t exactly the kind of activity somebody could make an argument for as an appropriate use of time in place of completing assignments. 

Suddenly, Blake’s scroll began to vibrant on the bedside table she had placed it on. Peering over her book, she knew instinctively what this meant of course, the last few weeks it had been the same routine. She picked up her scroll, looking at the name of the messenger, and sure enough it had been sent by none other than the blonde above her. There wasn’t really a need for Blake to read the message, she knew Yang like the back of her hand at this point, but for her own amusement she unlocked the device and read the message as follows:

Yang: Blake!!! Can u giv me and Weissy sum privacy? 

Blake rolled her eyes, Yang’s poor grammar and spelling aside in the formatting of her message, as well as the rather blunt manner in which she asked which was perfectly representative of the blonde and her mannerisms. Blake began typing back and responded to her partner’s message.

Me: Sure. Me and Ruby will get out of your hair.

Blake responded simply, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and could practically hear the victorious fist pump from Yang. She looked up to Ruby on her bunk, swinging her legs back and forth while lying down on her bed as she flicked through the latest edition of her magazine named “Guns ‘N Ammo” which detailed all the latest weapons and dust-based inventions Huntsmen used when on their missions. Blake found it adorable how enamoured her leader was with something that was ridiculously commonplace in the world of Remnant. 

“Ruby, I wanted to go buy a new book for when I finished this one. Thought we could also buy some cookies, want to go out?” Ruby’s head snapped in the direction of Blake, her energetic leader’s eyes practically glowing with the intense want for the sugary treat, drooling in the way Blake herself would at the prospect of fish. She knew exactly that the younger girl couldn’t resist the prospect, cookies were her weak point and the most effective thing in the world in which one could convince her to do anything for. 

“Yes! OhmygoshyesBlake! You’re so awesome!” Ruby vanished from the bed, a flutter of Rose petals in her shape wafting down to the bedding she had been positioned on, the door flung open. Blake chuckled quietly to herself as she stood to her full height and gestured to the trail of roses that indicated the direction Ruby had sprinted off to with the help of her semblance. 

“I’m gonna go then. Have fun, you two.” Weiss looked up from her desk, blushing faintly at Blake as the cat Faunas sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind her. Weiss tentatively rolled her pen around her hand, out of anxiety. Usually she’d scold Ruby or Yang for the undignified action but this was different. She knew the game had begun, she glanced over her shoulder to see Yang, propped up on her arm as she laid on her side, smirking at Weiss.

“Sup?” she asked rhetorically, the blush becoming more evident on the heiress’ face the longer she stared. Eventually, she whipped her head back around to the essay she was partially through the way of completing, cursing internally that Yang had to surrender whatever little patience she had within herself when Weiss was only halfway through the essay and had yet to properly compile a list of sources she had used. Yang always had a frustrating habit of beginning the little “competition” right when it suited Weiss the least. But Weiss wasn’t about to lose, no, she had her pride if nothing else. A Schnee never lost, and she was determined to beat Yang and prove this to her.

She heard the blonde grunt and land on the floor after jumping off her bunk, strolling over to Weiss to embrace her from behind her chair, the soft and beautiful lengthy tresses of Yang’s perfectly wild mane brushing Weiss’ cheeks. The blonde nuzzled into Weiss’ head, enjoying the feeling of the ivory haired girl’s soft and lavender scented locks. “Hey beautiful, Weiss to meet you.” Yang showed off her penchant for terrible jokes in a formula that contextually didn’t make sense, as the two had known each-other from the very day they had met at Beacon. Weiss groaned at the joke, losing her place mid-sentence in her essay, tapping her pen to the paper as she searched the recesses of her mind for the perfect end to the analysis she was making of the differences between Human and Faunas weaponry during the Faunas rebellion. But Yang’s hands explored Weiss’s body, mostly lingering and massaging on her shoulders and arms, completely distracting Weiss. 

“Yang, I’m trying to do my homework. You should really think about doing it too, you’re pulling the team down with your abysmal scores.” Weiss tried to deflect Yang’s advances and begin a new topic of conversation.

There was a small huff from Yang, who only continued with her massaging of Weiss’ shoulders, earning a pleasure-filled gasp from Weiss at the tension leaving her body. Yang’s hands were good for a number of things: Brawling, hunting, massaging and bringing Weiss to the height of orgasm. Weiss’ eyes snapped open wide at the thought, scarlet parading across her cheeks as she realised exactly where her mind was going. The boneheaded and boisterous girl was winning their contest without having to flirt all that much, she was just offering a way of relieving stress for Weiss. Of course, it carried ulterior motives, but the fact remained it wasn’t like she was cupping her posterior or running her hands down the subtle curves of Weiss’ petite body. 

“Aww, come on my Ice Princess, just forget about it for a minute. You’re so pent up! Just lie down on your bunk and I’ll make it all go away.” Yang delivered in a sweet way, like Sirens of the old, luring Sailors to their demise or in Weiss’ case, an evening of debauchery.

“Yang,” Weiss’ voice took on a more serious edge, the use of the nickname ‘Ice Princess’ was intended to be sweet, but it was often used by many to tease Weiss after Jaune’s many and continued attempts to win her affections. She had considered admitting to him she was a lesbian, but coming out of the closet wasn’t an easy thing, not for the Heiress of the SDC. Her Father would disown her, and that was part of the reason why she demanded Yang keep whatever lecherous thoughts she had to herself unless they were alone, in their room. It did leave both of them a little crestfallen, but Weiss was vehement about the condition of their relationship. Nobody could know, not at least until they had graduated from Beacon. Yang found the idea absurd, of course, she wasn’t a patient girl as shown by her willingness to begin their alone time as soon as Blake was out of the door. But Yang was wiser than she looked, as well as being a very considerate and selfless individual for those important to her, and nobody mattered more to her than Weiss. “I’m seriously busy, knock your lustful actions off, please.” Weiss begged and Yang held her closer, the chair was blocking the blonde from properly cuddling Weiss to her and her remarkable cleavage (a strategy that always got Weiss hot and bothered) but the firmer grip on Weiss presented her with the knowledge Yang was not giving up easily. She would never force herself on Weiss, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t compel the Heiress into begging her to do it instead.

“Come on, while the cats away, the Weiss will play~” Yang chimed sweetly, her mouth next to Weiss’ ear, her warm breath tickling it and made Weiss whimper agonisingly.

“M-More of your stupid Faunas jokes?” Weiss dropped her pen, it was evident as always, the victory would be Yang’s before long. Regardless, it didn’t mean Weiss would grovel. She had the advantage of the fact Yang had to make her beg to win the game, so she could at least force Yang to increase the intensity of her attacks so they were on a more even playing field; that way it felt less like she was surrendering her position and admitting defeat. Yang, as previously stated, was not patient, so it was up to Weiss to simply stay strong and ignore the kindling fire within the pit of her stomach and the heightened senses of her body as Yang’s teasing continued.

“But you love my pun-ctual jokes! Seriously, you act like they’re some kind of pun-ishment!” Yang laughed enthusiastically at her own terrible jokes, and even Weiss found herself amused at the rapidity and variety of which she could dole them out. 

‘If only she was this creative and this determined with her own academics, she’d be the top of the class…’ Weiss’ mirth at her own thoughts caught the attention of Yang. The blonde bending closer and spoke, her lips rubbing against the rim of Weiss’ ear, the heiress whimpering in response.

“Weiss,” Yang called, her voice soft but acute. “I hope you’re not making fun of me.” The blonde smiled into Weiss’ ear, the sensation torturous in its minutia. Yang’s hands finally slipped down to the subtle curves of Weiss’ figure, delicately exploring every inch of the ice-skater-like figure of her girlfriend. “Because if you are,” Weiss was apprehensive, was Yang going to punish her for laughing at her own critique of her comical personality and how it contrasted her academic determination? Weiss didn’t mind at all when Yang was aggressive, or angry for that matter. She loved being submissive to her partner, but she loved the battle to be reduced to a quivering mess even more. Prideful as always, of course, the defining characteristic of a Schnee of course. “I may just have to send you to a pun-itentiary!” Weiss groaned louder than ever before at the teasing resulting in nothing more than another awful, poorly timed and ludicrous joke.

“Oh, just make love to me already you insufferable brute!” Weiss yelled and Yang, without warning, scooped Weiss up in her arms like a knight would do for a Princess. Weiss wrapped her arms around Yang’s neck and was carried over to her own bunk, dropping the Heiress unceremoniously onto the bed. Yang’s eager and impulsive desire to claim Weiss continued as she straddled Weiss, bending down to give her chaste kisses, biting and nibbling at Weiss’ lips just as she liked, eliciting pleasured and loud moans from the smaller girl, hands reaching up to cup Yang’s face, only for the blonde to pin her to the bed by her wrists. Yang pushed her knee between Weiss’ legs, forcing her combat skirt to ride up her legs until Yang’s knee gained some semblance of access to Weiss’ core. Yang started to kiss along her girlfriend’s jaw, still nibbling and sucking on her flesh, Weiss moaning and writhing beneath her. “Oh Yang, please let me touch you…!” Weiss begged, fully well knowing she had lost the competition, her pride and haughty nature being exchanged for pleasure and the comfort of Yang’s well-tailored and skilful technique. 

“Since you said the magic word…” Yang released Weiss’ hands, revelling in her victorious moment of once again making the overconfident and self-aggrandizing Schnee beg for the privilege to touch her. Weiss’ hands darted for Yang’s cheeks again, cupping her supple and smooth skin, guiding Yang back to her lips to share a deeper, more passionate kiss. Their tongues entwined, wrestling and exploring each-others mouths until they were both robbed of breath and red in the face. “Yang, please…” Weiss begged again, and Yang nodded in understanding. She grabbed at Weiss’ jacket and threw it off, before untying the sash of Weiss’ dress and discarding it haphazardly. Yang continued with every item of Weiss’ attire before starting with her own, leaving them fully naked, Yang still straddling Weiss hips, her soaking core rubbing against Weiss’ hipbone for pleasure. Yang bit down on her lip, grinding against Weiss, pleasure fluttering through her body in waves passing through her in time with her increasingly needy and harsher thrusts. Yang slowly stopped, bending back down to grope and massage Weiss’ small but undeniably cute chest, rolling her nipples between her fingers and occasionally flicking them, Weiss crying out in the contrasting mix of pain and pleasure, her moans almost mimicking the beautiful songstress of a voice she displayed whenever she practiced a ballad or an orchestral number for fun. 

“Oh, my god, Yang, please don’t stop!” Weiss begged, the blonde girl bending down, biting her lip in a devilish smile.

“I haven’t even gotten started, my Snowflake.” Yang promised, but it sounded more like a threat from her tone, she reseeded back down the bed, earning herself a nervous whimper from Weiss, fearful her partner was leaving her. Yang held Weiss’ hand for her reassurance, eloping their fingers before pushing Weiss’ legs apart with her free hand. Weiss’ juices stuck to the insides of her thighs, glistening from the dying light of the setting sun. Yang started nibbling up Weiss’ legs, sucking on her flesh in an attempt to leave a hickie. If she couldn’t let people know of their intimacy, she could gladly accept that, the next best alternative was marking every inch of Weiss’ body she could that nobody else ever got to see. It was a more than fair trade off. She teasingly licked down to the labia, licking through her folds slowly, teasingly and Weiss threw her head back onto her pillow and groaned pathetically.

“Y-You’re the worst!” she complained through her cries of pleasure, back arching and thighs quaking at the growing need for release but adoration of the near constant pangs of sensuality burning through every inch of her form. 

“You love it.” Yang said confidently, sucking on her clit and Weiss’ hand clamped down on Yang’s to bone-crushing levels of pressure, her cries growing louder and louder the more Yang focused on the small node at the peak of her sex. “Does it feel good, Weiss? Too much?” Yang asked tenderly, relenting on her constant attack to let Weiss pant, oxygen allowed to finally flow through her healthily. 

“I-I want you inside of me…” Weiss stated, all pretence of the Heiress and her persona had melted away. The real Weiss was laid bare for Yang to see and only Yang to see. The timid, submissive and beautifully sweet girl whom adored Yang. The girl locked deep inside of Weiss, only flashes and momentary examples of her existence ever providing any evidence she was real, a regular girl with regular desires. She contrasted everything about Weiss, but retained all of her beauty and polish, even in her depraved and carnal form.  
Yang acquiesced to Weiss, bringing two fingers to her soaked pussy, and slipping them inside of her, she churned and twisted them inside of her, curling them as well as scratching her vaginal walls. Weiss brought her hands to her chest, tightening them into fists and screamed in pleasure.  
“Yang! Yang! Yang! Oh, my god! I love you!” she repeated, nearly delirious from the pleasure of being connected to Yang, not even registering the blonde and cupped the tear drenched cheeks of her girlfriend, softly stroking her scarred eye as she planted soft kisses all over Weiss’ face, her fingers still routinely pumping in and out of Weiss. 

“And I love you, I love you so much, Weiss.” Yang proclaimed as she finally brought Weiss to the edge, the girl toppling over in orgasm, her half-lid eyes fluttering as her legs twitched in pure pleasure. Yang quickly moved to secure Weiss in her arms, cuddling her head to the blonde’s bare chest, stroking and petting the Heiress as her breathing became softer and more rhythmic. “So, I think I won.” Yang teased, earning a light-hearted slap from a lethargic hand devoid of energy to Yang’s chest, and a defeated yet pleased smile adorning Weiss’ face. 

“Being a dolt must run in the family, because you and Ruby are far too similar.” Weiss said, listlessly, a yawn being blocked by the back of her hand. 

Yang snickered at that rocked Weiss slightly in her arms, reaching out to gather up Weiss’ nightgown from the edge of the bed and carefully pulled it over her lover. “Maybe I am, but I’m a happy dolt. Cause I got the Bees Schnees!” Yang jokes, but looked down to see Weiss was already out like a light, arms wrapped around the waist of her lover, locked tight with a small and honest smile tugging at her lips. “Get some rest, Weiss. Sweet dreams.” Yang stroked the head of her partner, before a realisation set in “Aww crap, what if Ruby and Blake walk in on me naked because Weiss is clung to me and won’t let me move?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter. I greatly appreciate it. 
> 
> Yes, this chapter was more or less a oneshot I made that I wanted to turn into an actual story, so no real plot will be evident until the second chapter. I apologise for that. However, I hope you enjoyed the piece and I look forward to crafting this into an interesting AU where RWBY stayed bright and cheerful. For the most part.


	2. More Yang for your buck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss has difficulty expressing her feelings, Yang deals with problems as boldly as ever, and a rematch from the Vytal Festival...

Yang walked with a swagger through the halls of Beacon as the rest of team RWBY followed in tow, Ruby happily skipping along, Blake with a wry smile across her lips and Weiss silently fuming to herself, arms cross over her chest. It was easy to understand Yang’s confident stride, coming in third in the Vytal festival had made her a celebrity to everyone in Beacon Academy, third years had begun asking for autographs and men and woman repeatedly showered her with affection as well as gifts. Blake was a fairly good foil for her partner, acting as a ball and chain for the Blonde brawler to keep her grounded; always reminding Yang to not let anything get to her head. It was understandable to Blake though why Yang would be so proud of herself, she was a girl from the diminutive and unknown island of patch, who had gone one on one with the eventual winner Pyrrha Nikos and managed to hold her own and push the Invincible girl to her limit. Everybody across the world knew Pyrrha, she was a multi-time Mistralli champion but despite that Yang had seemed on equal par to her, both shocking the world and winning them over. She had gone from a backwater farm-girl to one of Remnants brightest prodigy Huntresses. In defeat, she gained more plaudits than the two finalists. Blake always made sure to remind Yang never to rest on her laurels, although she was always supportive. Weiss on the other hand… Weiss was absolutely livid at the state of affairs, and there wasn’t exactly one prevailing reason for her ire. First of all, losing in the Vytal festival was quintessentially opposed to her. She despised the fact that team JNPR, a team with the living insult to all trained Huntsmen known as Jaune Arc, had taken the trophy and winning coverage associated with that. Being a Schnee defeat was a bitter pill to swallow and she resented the fact her entire team were happy with third place after Yang had subsequently won the third/fourth place play off. The bronze medal meant nothing, it was just a constant reminder that they simply weren’t good enough and they would be forever considered losers. The Heiress was also perturbed by the fact that her team constantly and unapologetically spoke of the tournaments result as something to be proud of. Weiss wasn’t a tyrant, and nor did she fail to understand why they would be happy with such a result; they simply didn’t have as high expectations as she did. Because of that it was an important point of leadership on her part to regularly inform her teammates that they couldn’t be happy or content with such a result, which to her credit, Blake seemed to side with Weiss for the most part, although she was perhaps attempting to be a moderate influence on both sides of the extremely delighted Yang and the positively incensed Weiss.

But that wasn’t all of course, Weiss would be naïve to assume her irritation and aggravation were purely derived from her team’s failure to secure victory at the Vytal tournament. No, there was a far more obvious and embarrassing reason why she was brooding in the way she was. A small blush crept over her as she explored the thought, the idea that other women and men were all asking Yang to go out with them. Informing the blonde, she was the perfect partner and that they wanted nothing more than for Yang to date them. They showered her with gifts and praise. Whilst Weiss was aware it was her own conditions for their relationship that meant Yang simply couldn’t bat all suitors off with the information she was already dating someone, namely Weiss, but the real prospect that angered and scared Weiss all the same was the idea that perhaps, just a little, Yang could be interested in one of her many admirers. It was chiefly because of Weiss’ own lack of self-confidence, but she couldn’t help but list her own set of faults that would eventually see Yang toss the heiress aside and elope with a new partner. Weiss was high-maintenance, bossy, arrogant, demanding and incredibly restrictive of Yang, whom of course juxtaposed her on a fundamental level. She was a phoenix, burning bright with the flames of freedom, and Weiss was the caged canary, tragically singing her sweet tune, waiting for her own liberation.

“Yo! Weiss!” Weiss was broken from her reverie to fathom that she had continued to walk past the rest of her team without noticing they had stopped at the sparring room. She blushed at finding herself too preoccupied with her own internal dialogue to properly pay attention to her team or the location they had arrived. 

“Oh, my apologies…” Yang raised a single eyebrow, dubious of her girlfriend. It was rare of her to apologise, especially so unreservedly. 

“Something on your mind?” Blake asked.

“Why would there be?” Weiss responded her usual defensive attitude, hands adorning her hips.

“Because Weiss Schnee not being 100% attentive to the world around her and criticising it is…weird.” Blake said frankly. 

“Yeah, what’s next? I bet you’ll be like those anime protagonists Blake loves so much and walk into a wall!” Ruby jested and Blake blushed, running her hand through her hair to act inconspicuous about it. Blake was an adamant fan of Anime, another guilty pleasure one wouldn’t expect of the former White Fang officer. 

“I would never be so inattentive as to act as foolish as you, Ruby Rose!” Weiss scowled at her partner’s typical jesting, less out of anger and more out of habit at this point. It was regular for them to tease each-other as nothing was normally meant to really insult the other, at least not on purpose. 

“Oooooh I could so see Weiss being the Tsundere female protagonist being caught in all kinds of embarrassing moments!” Yang squealed, laughing all the while as Weiss looked away flushed. 

“Stop with the damned ice and snow jokes Xiao Long! I am not a Tsundere!” 

“I’m sorry Weiss, I guess you could say…” Yang began before Weiss brought her finger to Yang’s lips and whispered deadly. 

“If you make one more pun, I swear no amount of Aura will be able to undo the damage I cause!” Weiss screamed amidst her blush at touching Yang so casually. For most, silencing Yang with their hand may be nothing to focus on or care about. But they weren’t Yang’s lover, so the briefest of contact made Weiss’ heart flutter. She would never admit it openly and only ever begrudgingly to Yang in total privacy, but everything Yang did made Weiss stupidly happy. She rejoiced in the opportunity to grace her fingers with Yang’s skin. Regardless, Yang seemed to take the threat seriously.

“Woah, got’cha. No more of the puns.” Yang held up her hands apologetically and Weiss sighed in relief, stepping back to the stares of her teammates as she reaffirmed her stance.

“What is it?” Weiss asked. 

“Beyond threatening Yang over a simple pun? You’re acting…odd.” Ruby replied, being more tactful about her accusations then Blake had previously, a surprising reversal of their roles. Yang nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you’ve been quiet and looked angrier as of late. Usually you take any opportunity you can get to inform us of your ‘interesting’ knowledge of everything ever.” Yang explained as she gestured with air quotes, and Weiss chewed the inside of her mouth out of displeasure. She wasn’t used to feeling jealous, her entire life she had been showered with anything she could ever want. But Yang was a different beast, she could have anyone she could ever want, and no amount of money could buy Yang. She had a respectable code of honour about that. But she was jealous at the thought of people trying to flirt with her girlfriend. It was beginning to interfere with her noticeably now, affecting her in the less subtle ways she had been hoping to avoid. Part of her wanted to affirm Yang’s faithfulness and put her concerns to rest, but Weiss was both new to relationships and terrified of bearing herself so openly to her partner. It was an irrational fear, but Weiss was an irrational girl. 

“It’s nothing. I promise.” She tried to look sincere as possible but there was a sceptical look shared between the rest of her team.

“Well, if you say so…” Ruby shrugged.

“I’ll defer to our leader.” Blake said deadpan. Yang’s mouth curved uncertainly, teeth sinking into her lip before she grabbed Weiss by the wrist.

“We’ll be back in a minute, go in without us.” Yang informed, marching off and Weiss was left with little choice but to follow as there was no way she could contest the strength of her girlfriend. She looked back to see Ruby whipping her head back and forth between Blake heading into the sparring rooms observation level and the slowly shrinking form of her partner and sister as they walked away.

 

Yang led Weiss into an empty classroom, pushing Weiss up against the wall by the door by her shoulders and stared straight into the ice blue eyes of her girlfriend. Yang was no idiot, sure, she could be slow on the uptake sometimes, and academics were never something she put too much stock into since she believed in practicality above all else. People were where Yang excelled though, especially those close to her. She noticed when people were concerned with something. Being an elder sister, it was her job to look after Ruby and settle whatever problems her younger sister had. When Blake had been acting out because of her obsession with the White Fang it was Yang whom had comforted her and put the issue to rest, at least momentarily. She put it down to her Maternal instincts, which she always joked must have come from her Father as Raven had never been around. 

Regardless, she was the best suited to know when something was wrong with her girlfriend and what was wrong. Weiss would never raise an issue about herself, she hated burdening her teammates with her issues. The Heiress was surprisingly selfless in that regard, but if anything, Goodwitch had drilled into Yang’s head that their cohesion and unity as a team didn’t end on the battlefield, their relationships and honesty with one-another was equally important to growing as a team. That’s why Yang couldn’t just sit back and allow Weiss to mope and fret to herself. It harmed Weiss, and therefore harmed the team. Not to mention of course, Weiss was now much closer to Yang’s own heart, it hurt her seeing Weiss so shaken and not being able to do anything about it. 

“Weiss,” Yang’s eyes were glowering at the Heiress in that burning crimson that informed the smaller girl Yang was riled up over whatever it was that was tormenting Weiss. “I don’t like it when I’m lied to. And I hate it when you lie to yourself.” Weiss’ eyes widened considerably, and then she looked down guiltily.

“I’m sorry.” Weiss apologised and Yang growled.

“Sorry isn’t good enough!” Yang exclaimed and saw Weiss shaking slightly from the rising temperature and flicker of flames clinging to Yang. The blonde sighed, focusing on her breathing to try and relax her semblance. “If there’s a problem you’ve gotta tell us. We worry about you. We care about you. I,” Yang looked out the corner of her eyes before finding the necessary courage to keep the eye contact between them. She softly held Weiss’ chin and angled it up to look at her. “I care about you. So please, Weiss, don’t fight on your own. Don’t push us away and tell us everything is fine. That hurts more than anything.” Déjà vu flooded Yang’s mind of her conversation with Blake, in a similar situation. It was a bittersweet memory of a friend struggling, but her own efforts bore fruit in the form of her friend overcoming her issues, and she hoped the results would be repeated again. Weiss nodded, the stinging of tears behind her eyes emphasising the already obvious fact Yang’s speech was getting to her. 

“Yang, I’m…” Weiss exhaled in defeat. There was no way she could just push this aside now, but there was a comforting feeling at the knowledge Yang worried so much about such a trivial matter. “I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m just jealous of you.” Weiss finally admitted.

Yang smirked, a mixture of surprise and accomplishment at making Weiss feel in such a way. “What have you got to be jealous of, Princess?” Weiss rolled her eyes.

“Dolt. Are you here to comfort me or tease me?”

“Who said I can’t do both?” the two of them chuckled, Yang using her strong arms to embrace Weiss and gently stroke her back, being rewarded by Weiss’ beautiful hum of appreciation.

“Yang, everyone adores you now. I’m just…afraid. I know I can be tiresome for you, and we’ve had our fair share of arguments over how difficult of a girlfriend I can be.” Yang didn’t confirm Weiss’ thoughts, choosing to continue to stroke her girlfriend’s ivory tresses, but she did agree with her lover. If Yang had a bad habit of avoiding homework, Weiss had a bad habit making a mountain out of a molehill. 

“So, you’re worried I might leave you? Find another princess for myself? Because I’m gonna be honest, Weiss, it’s not like I can find one trapped in a tower on the edge of every street corner.” Yang could practically hear Weiss rolling her eyes this time.

“I’m an Heiress, not a Princess. Please use the correct terminology.”

“What’s the difference? You wear a tiara.” Weiss huffed and Yang finally released Weiss from their cuddle, jumping up onto one of the desks and patting it for Weiss to join her. Weiss looked apprehensive at first, sucking on her lip before she dusted the desk off and straightened her combat skirt to sit down, leaning into Yang’s shoulder. “Listen babe, I have no intention to start pinballing my way from girl to girl. Or guy to guy. What we have, that’s special. You’re special. You’re my special snowflake.” 

“I feel like that’s vaguely insulting…” Weiss muttered to herself.

“Us being together will never be easy, Weiss. You’ve made that painfully clear with how secretive we have to be. I’d like nothing more than to parade you around, telling the whole world Weiss Schnee is mine and mine alone. But,” Yang brought her lips to Weiss’ ear “I love you. I have no intention of trading you in. Got it?” Yang playfully nipped at Weiss’ ear with her lips, the smaller girl moaning quietly.

“D-Dolt. I get it already. Don’t be such a romantic and then switch so suddenly to being a pervert. It’s unbecoming.” Yang chuckled at Weiss, throwing an arm around the shoulders of her partner.

“Would you rather me Princess carry you like last night then?” Yang’s smile creeped upwards, taking on a more wicked accentuation. 

“Once again, I’m not a princess.”

“Oh, Heiress carry, then?” Yang teased as Weiss lowered herself off of the desk, brushing down her skirt.

“In your dreams, Xiao Long.” She smirked playfully “Come. We’re already late for class.”

“Oh, I’ll cum on command for you~” Yang winked, a play on words was just as good as a pun for Yang.

“Yang!” Weiss yelled in fury and embarrassment.

 

Yang and Weiss tried to enter into the sparring room as inconspicuously as possible only to be greeted by the entire class turning to face them at the sound of the doors opening. Many of the students snickered and looked amused over the fact that the usually punctual Weiss Schnee was late to a lesson, the Heiress fiddling restlessly with her hands, attempting to ignore them.

“Miss Xiao Long.” Glynda Goodwitch looked mildly irritated by the tardiness of the blonde, but not overtly surprised by the fact of yet another late showing. Yang felt slightly miffed by the reprimand she would probably receive. For once she wasn’t really to blame, or at least not entirely. Usually she would be late because she would take longer to roused from her slumber or spent too much time on her hair. This time it was an altruistic act of helping her girlfriend, so her vexation could be sympathised with. “I’ve come to expect this from you, but this is most unlike you, Miss Schnee.” Weiss’ eyes were planted firmly on the ground, embarrassment seeping through her body. Yang could tell from the restless nature of Weiss’ fiddling with her hands that it indicated she wanted nothing more than to grab Yang’s own for comfort. The warring desire for intimacy and privacy troubling Weiss immeasurably. It hurt Yang that she could do nothing, but this was the unfortunate nature of their relationship.

“We’re very sorry, Miss Goodwitch.” Weiss apologised.

“I should hope so. Your team may have placed amongst the best in all of the Academies in Remnant, but that is no excuse for ignoring lessons and the prominence they play in your growth as Huntresses. May I ask what delayed you from arriving on time for your lessons?”

Weiss gulped, there was no way she could tell the truth, and she was horrible both at lying in the sense of maintaining a poker face but also at improvisation. For the life of her, Weiss being under such pressure to come up with a believable alternative for the truth was a task as difficult for her as sitting still was for Ruby. Fortunately, her girlfriend seemed far more capable of creativity. 

“We were off checking out some of the boys!” Yang said, punching her fists together in front of her chest, winking as she did so. Weiss blushed furiously, but her lips were tugged in a smile both out of humour at how bold and daring her lover was, but also at how she leaped to Weiss’ defence with an answer that quashed any suggestion or idea that Weiss was dating a girl. It was, bewilderingly, romantic. 

Goodwitch sighed, not exactly content with the answer but with the nature and implication of what it entailed she decided against following up with it. 

“Yang! That’s awful! Don’t corrupt Weiss with your shameless habits!” Ruby cried from the front row of the room. Yang was grateful that Ruby was so trustful of her elder sister and the habits of which she shamelessly partook in, even if Yang would have been the first to tell Ruby not to take Yang at face value over anything she said without evidence to first back it up. Yang simply shrugged at Ruby’s cry of indignation, raising her hands flat in front of her.

“Hey, a girl’s eye can’t help but wonder.” Yang emphasised the fact but looking at Weiss, which many in the room assumed meant that even Weiss was culpable of the act, but Weiss knew that Yang was sizing her up and appreciating her girlfriend’s figure making her redden.

“Since you’re apparently so determined to disrupt my class, Miss Xiao Long, how about you give Miss Nikos over here a sparring partner so you can actually positively contribute to my lesson with all that excess energy of yours?” The room turned back towards their teacher stood below in the middle of the sparring room, the crimson-headed warrior stood behind her, waving with a radiant smile. 

“Hello again!” she said quietly. Pyrrha hadn’t changed much since the tournament, if anything she had become cheerier at the result of being victorious, even if one would have assumed that after so many victories the notion would have become more mundane. Some, namely Ruby who gained her information from an anonymous tipster who shall only ever be referred to as Not Nora, believed it was because she had finally mustered the courage to inform Jaune of her feelings towards him. 

“I think everyone here would vastly appreciate a rematch of what was widely considered the best match of the entire tournament. And,” Glynda smiled, devious in nature, “You’ll get a chance at evening up the score between you and Miss Nikos. Is that all-right with you, Pyrrha?”

“I would be happy to spar with Yang, I enjoyed our Semi-final match and a chance to push myself again is quite the exciting prospect.” Pyrrha said. Ever since the tournament, the two Huntresses-in-training had steadily become friendly rivals, pushing and testing one-another to their very limits, using any chance where one excelled in a certain area as a basis for their own betterment.

Yang grinned, activating Ember Celica on either arm and leaped down to the floor below, landing in a crouch, before sauntering over to the circular outlining at the middle of the sparring room.  
“Don’t have to ask me twice!” Yang placed one leg behind the other, left hand placed slightly ahead of the right as she assumed her stance. Glynda tapped her tablet a few times before both of their auras were displayed by an avatar of themselves. 

“Good luck, Yang.” Pyrrha smiled, drawing Milo and Akouo with her semblance, openly broadcasting it without worry for anybody finding out, as during the competition she was routinely forced to disburse it visibly. 

“Just as long as my Uncle isn’t here…”

“Three, two, one…” Glynda counted down, Pyrrha raising her shield to cover her torso and holding Milo in its sword form, angling it just beyond the shield pointing at Yang. “Begin!” Glynda said, and Yang didn’t waste any time in beginning their match by firing a series of concussive rounds from Ember Celica towards Pyrrha’s feet. Her strategy was similar to that of their previous match; keep Pyrrha moving. Don’t let her dictate the flow and continuously press her and, although unlikely, try and force her to make a mistake.

Pyrrha dodge the first few rounds with a roll, but Yang had already anticipated this, firing another barrage that Pyrrha was forced to block with Akouo, her shield. She skidded back in a crouch, allowing the momentum knock her off balance so she could effectively use it to roll and create space between her and Yang. That sequence was simply a feeling out process, trying to discern the reactions of the other. Pyrrha folded Milo into its rifle form and aimed, still crouched from her roll, at Yang and fired several rounds. Yang twirled past the first two, and then slid under the final bullet. Letting her momentum carry her forward, Yang sprung into the air and fired down on Pyrrha, raining multiple shots at the girl whom simply dove away and under Yang, launching Akouo at Yang’s airborne legs, knocking the blonde off balance and she crashed down into the ground below. 

 

“Yeah! That’s our girl! Kick butt! Break some legs!” Nora cheered from the other side of the class to Weiss and the rest of her team, acting as a cheerleader with Jaune and Ren trying to coax the energetic red-head back into her seat.

“Yang! Get up! It’s not over!” Weiss cheered on, though she knew perhaps her own form of motivation may be more anger inducing. Weiss’ eyes widened, an epiphany striking her. “Are you trying to look like a complete loser? Because you’re succeeding!” Weiss hurled insults at Yang, feeling a pang of guilt as she did so. “What happened to all that swagger, Yang?! Can you only talk the talk but not walk the walk?!”

“Weiss! What’s wrong with you?” Blake asked, incredulous that their teammate would result to invectives after being outmanoeuvred once. Weiss turned to the faunas, her face contorting into a devious leer mirroring a plotting supervillain. 

“Yang is at her best, when she’s angry.” Weiss said and Blake sat back. She wasn’t the least bit pleased this was the strategy Weiss had decided upon, but she knew if it worked it could be fairly effective. Blake looked to Ruby, who was fairly troubled by Weiss’ words towards her sister.

“Don’t worry, Weiss knows what she’s doing.” Blake smiled, patting Ruby’s shoulder.

“I hope so.”

 

Yang managed to get back onto her feet, although unsteadily. Weiss’ insults getting on her nerves. She didn’t get what her girlfriend was doing, and she really didn’t appreciate being affronted for adopting an attack pattern that didn’t work out. She could feel the fires of her semblance burst into life, her eyes turning a blood-red shade of crimson. Small tufts of fire shot up around her, and in a scream, it exploded outwards, singing the floor a dark black.

“Will you shut up for two seconds, Weiss?!” Yang screamed, bearing her teeth as she growled at her lover, who was smiling down at Yang like she was superior in every way, the archetypal image of a Schnee. It pissed Yang off. It. Really. Pissed. Yang. Off.

She sprinted at Pyrrha, rushing her as Pyrrha started her own surge towards her opponent, shield leading the way. If Yang was in control of her thoughts she might have thought about using the lack of space to fire more rounds at Pyrrha’s unguarded feet, but instead she solely used Ember Celica and her own fists to pound Pyrrha’s shield with a barrage of right and left hooks. The weight advantage was with Yang, so even as Pyrrha boosted her grasp on her shield with her semblance, she was being knocked off balance again by the relentless onslaught that was Yang Xiao Long. The small and instinctual part of Yang’s brain with any tactical sense knew that Pyrrha was holding on to her shield tightly, too tightly. She moved in closer, grabbing the bottom of the shield and with a furious roar she hurled it and Pyrrha into the air. The Invincible girl gasped as she flipped through the air several times, Yang stepping back and launching an explosive bolt from Ember Celica that hit Pyrrha right in the gut, exploding and sending her even higher, crashing and embedding Pyrrha into the ceiling of the sparring room, sending cracks out in every direction. Pyrrha pulled herself from the concrete, allowing her to descend through the air before shifting herself so she was falling head first, willing Akouo to her feet as a surface and launching herself directly at Yang with such velocity that even Ruby marvelled at it. She slashed with Milo at Yang’s head, however the blonde succeeded into anticipating the direction of the blow, bringing her right arm that had been horizontally placed along her chest and deflected the blow with her gauntlet. Although Yang may have blocked the offence there was nothing she could do to stop Pyrrha from barrelling into her, tackling the blonde into the ground and careening her across the stage. 

Yang once more pulled herself, fighting against the aches and pains in her body as her aura had dropped dangerously low. Whilst aura healed wounds they certainly couldn’t stop the body from reminding Yang that a fully grown teenage girl had essentially tackled at the speed that most Kingdoms would deem illegal. She inwardly cursed at the throbbing pain in her chest and stomach. The one silver lining being Pyrrha’s was in a similar state, meaning she couldn’t pull of any riskier attacks like that or use her own Semblance without pulling herself into the red in terms of aura. It meant that the fight had transitioned into an all-out slugfest, and Yang knew that only benefitted her. 

At this point the students had more than picked sides, some backing the underdog in Yang, and some rallying behind the school’s champion in Pyrrha. The roars may not have been as deafening as the Vytal festival, but they were equally if not more passionate. Yang yearned for it all, the good fight, the praise, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. It was her addiction; the result didn’t matter. There was only one thing driving Yang on; the excitement.

Yang and Pyrrha closed the distance slowly this time, choosing not to use any excess energy into getting closer, keeping up their guards as best as possible so as not to expose themselves. Pyrrha opted to attack first, lunging in with the tip of her blade, only for Yang to sidestep and sweep at Pyrrha’s legs. The crimson-haired girl dove over the attempted sweep, slashing in a wide arc towards Yang’s base, only for the blonde to jump on the spot and avoid the attack, Pyrrha skidding away as her momentum took her. Another stalemate. 

“You…have certainly improved, Yang. I’m impressed.” Pyrrha said panting, her arms hanging low by her sides from the fatigue. She dropped Akouo, knowing it was only weighing her down.  
Yang laughed, although it was weak as she herself was in the process of gasping for air. “Not so bad yourself, though I did need a little motivation.” Yang’s eyes trailed over to Weiss, who was practically ready to fall over the railing on the observation level from how anxiously she was leaning.

“You have good friends, they know how best to help you.” Pyrrha chuckled, readying her weapon. This time without any defence, both combatants knowing this was likely the last engagement between them. Yang made the first move this time, dispatching as many explosive rounds out of Ember Celica as she could, but Pyrrha was still dodging them with ease despite her drained state. She slashed at Yang as she neared her, going from a low angle and carving upwards. Yang tucked herself in tight, dragging herself within a hairs width of the blade and punched Pyrrha in the stomach, winding her opponent and moving in for the final blow.

“This is it!” Yang declared, punching the air in front of Pyrrha to unleash an explosive round right at her. But nothing happened. Yang had her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to look directly at her friend’s face as she punched her with an explosive shell, for obvious reasons. “Huh?” Yang wondered why there was no resounding explosion to punctuate her victory. She opened her eyes, and Pyrrha looked equally baffled. Yang punched the air again, expecting Ember Celica to unload as it was designed to. No such luck, once more it only made a mockingly quiet clicking sound. Yang turned the gauntlet around to notice she was out of ammo, wasting all of it in both arms at the start of their final engagement. “You have got to be kidding me!” Yang’s eyes momentarily flickered red in her rage. Pyrrha saw her chance, she lunged forward and punched Yang with the hand holding Milo, the blonde recoiling at the attack, her defence and concentration equally broken. Pyrrha rolled through the air and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to the side of Yang’s head, sending her rolling across the ground to the tune of the siren to indicate the match had ended. 

“The match is over, the winner is Pyrrha Nikos, although you both fought admirably, you should be proud.” Glynda smiled, the genuine nature in which she did so may have been more comforting if both girls weren’t exhausted, Pyrrha dropping to her knees and Yang led on her back, sprawled across the ground. 

“Wow…that was so much fun…” Yang smiled, sincerely and honestly happy despite her loss. The battle was back and forth, exciting and gripping, she had no reason to complain, though maybe slightly disappointed she hadn’t packed extended rounds.

“Yang!” Weiss called out, her voice a mixture of concern and sorrow. She leapt over the railing, glyphs helping her float harmlessly to the ground, before she sprinted over to her lover, cradling the blonde brawler to her chest.

“Hey, Princess…” Yang teased as tears flowed from Weiss’ eyes. “What’s with the waterworks?”

“Dolt! Idiot! Boneheaded dunce! You’re so reckless in how you fight! Do you know how painful it is watching someone you love throwing themselves in harm’s way just to win a fight?!” Weiss sobbed, her tears rolling down her face.

“Hey, you were the one lighting a fire in me.” Yang complained, reaching up to stroke a tear from Weiss’ cheek.

“B-Because…I wanted to help…but you can’t keep fighting like that! It’s dangerous! It’s reckless and stupid!” Weiss sniffled “I was complicit in influencing you to get yourself beat up, and that was wrong. I’m sorry.” 

“Weiss, please stop worrying. It was a sparring match, and I was fighting Pyrrha, our friend. I’m fine.” Yang professed but Weiss simply shook her head.

“This time! But what happens if another Torchwick comes our way? Or Cinder? What if you do this and lose? You might not survive! You can’t always just fight in tournaments or sparring matches! Your semblance is a damned temper tantrum, and one day, you might not be able to take the next blow!” Weiss exclaimed. “I’d hate to lose you…”

Yang looked over to Goodwitch, who seemed to be agreeing with Weiss at least on the points of Yang’s style and the dangers it carried. “Miss Xiao Long, you have a very unique style of combat that is bolstered by your Semblance. But it carries a great risk, and as a Huntress you must consider practically and results above style and preference. That is why we usually take two weapons in the form of one, so we do not have to rely on a single form of combat.” Yang sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“Yeah, I guess I see the point.” She looked up to Weiss, tears still rolling down her cheeks. The blonde sat up, and wiped them away with her thumb, smiling to herself at how beautiful Weiss looked even as her makeup ran. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll cool it on the semblance.” Yang wisecracked another dreadful joke.

“You’re insufferable…” Weiss smiled faintly, shaking her head. 

A thought then occurred to Yang, weren’t the two of them acting incredibly…suspicious? Sure, Yang landed pretty awkwardly from Pyrrha’s kick and it was a very physical match, but it didn’t really justify Weiss’ reaction. Yang knew, as her girlfriend, that Weiss was very protective and critical of Yang’s style of fighting but nobody else would have expected the shedding of tears or Weiss running to Yang’s side in a sanctioned match in which neither competitor’s aura would actually run out and leave them liable to injury. The two of them shared a knowing look of this train of thought and looked to the near silent crowd, murmurings between certain students no doubt trading interpretations of why Weiss reacted as she did. 

“Oh…my…god…they’re…!” Nora was about to shout, as Ren quickly covered her mouth, whatever accusation she was about to make being silenced.

“A perfectly bonded and invested members of a successful team. We should all aspire to be as close and concerned with the well-being and techniques of our teammates as team RWBY is.” Ren’s voice was incredibly stoic and convincing, though an almost uncharacteristic smile was pulling at his lips. It was nearly unnoticeable, but it was certainly there.

Although surprised by both the outburst of Nora, and even more so by Ren’s own interjection of his partner, Goodwitch again seemed to agree with the point made. “Yes, as I always make a point to inform you of students, your teams are a vital aspect of your education here. You are as reliant on each-other for success as you are your weapons and semblances. A huntsman’s life can be difficult, painful, and fraught with peril. As such, you will need to form bonds with those whom can empathise with what you are experiencing, and learn that they are here to help you and provide protection for you. Miss Xiao Long and Miss Schnee are perfect examples of this.” Glynda explained, and Weiss sighed a breath of relief as it seemed the class appeared convinced of the explanation.  
Pyrrha walked over and offered Yang a hand up, which the blonde readily accepted, rising to her feet to shake it.

“Yang, thank you for the match. It was fun to get another chance to test myself against you.”

“Likewise,” Yang smiled, pointing to the empty spaces under her gauntlets were her ammo would be stored “Next time round, I won’t lose!” She laughed ardently at her joke, Pyrrha joining in.

“You certainly are a jovial character, Yang. I look forward to it. Oh! I know, how about we share some…” Pyrrha pointed to the empty rounds in Yang’s gauntlet “Shots, in team JNPR’s room to celebrate our wonderful match!” 

Weiss’ mouth hung open, her perfect image of Pyrrha being shattered as the once legendary and mythically invincible girl was making woeful puns with her girlfriend. “It’s like a disease…oh Dust, what am I in for?”

Suddenly, the putrid smell of alcohol and sounds of shambling limbs came from the entrance into the sparring room, a disgruntled and poorly shaven man leaned against the entrance, screwing on the cap to his flask after previously drinking from it. 

“Hey, Glynda, sorry if I effected the outcome of the contest there. An unfortunate chain of events.” Qrow Branwen said as he pocketed his flask, smirking as he regarded the two battle-weary students “Hell of a match, Firecracker. Got some of your Uncle in you, after all.” 

“Qrow, why are you here? I thought you were on another mission from Professor Ozpin.” Glynda added curiously.

“I was. Now I’m done, in case that wasn’t obvious.” He said sarcastically “I came to speak to my Niece, got some pretty important stuff she should hear.” His voice turning remarkably grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was much longer than initially intended, but I wanted the Pyrrha vs Yang scene to be properly included to help with my fight scenes since its been a while since I've written a lengthy one.
> 
> And yes, it may have been contrived to have Weiss react so passionately to Yang's fighting style I wanted to try and include Taiyang's criticism of Yang's semblance use and how she happily let herself get hit just so she can hit back harder. I think it makes sense those close to her, whilst willing to let her fight as she sees fit, would find it unsettling to see Yang get knocked about time and time again. I suppose after their emotional conversation Weiss was on edge and seeing Yang get knocked about pushed her over the edge.
> 
> And yes, Qrow was basically the reason for Yang losing. She just so happened to run out of ammo when it seemed she had won, can't be a coincidence, can it?


	3. So, A Qrow and a Raven walk into a bar…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Qrow lays down some exposition on the true nature of the world of Remnant.

Qrow had brought both Yang and Weiss, the heiress after she had insisted upon not leaving Yang’s side and Yang’s own insistence upon her presence, to a particularly extravagant and high-class restaurant in central Vale, it was painted dark shades of maroon with cushioned seats and a variety of what must have been expensive and famous artwork and replica architecture that even Yang recognised, although her knowledge of the pieces ended at recognition that they were in fact, works of art. Weiss had seemed far more impressed and focused on the art, clearly showing a cultured understanding of them having been brought up in the richest family in the whole of Remnant. Yang thanked whatever deity was smiling down on her that Weiss was so preoccupied and speechless at seeing it all that she thankfully didn’t begin recounting every little detail like she usually would have done. Although, Yang did think it was incredibly adorable and sweet when Weiss acted like she was; starry-eyed and incredibly emotive about her excitement and intrigue. She was happy that Weiss had an opportunity to explore her own interests, a small factor in helping her ignore the growing anxiety over why her Uncle had brought the two of them here, since he had been suspiciously quiet and deflective over answering any query on the way to the establishment from either girl.

The most confusing element of it all was why Qrow had brought them to a restaurant that he himself wouldn’t be caught dead at, he would probably make comments about it being flashy and so self-aggrandising that it had to be compensating for something. But instead he had been oddly quiet, sitting at a table on the second level of the restaurant with Weiss and Yang sitting next to each-other opposite him. The building had been completely empty except for a woman dressed in a uniform of black trousers, a white shirt and a red vest waiting at what appeared to be a reception desk, immediately recognising Qrow and leading them to their seats.

“Can I get you anything to eat or drink, Mister Branwen? Or your friends?” the brunette with shoulder length blonde hair asked. Qrow shook his flask.

“Thanks, but I’m already taken care of.” 

“Just some water, please.” Weiss said.

“Strawberry Sunrise?” Yang asked slyly, only for Qrow to stare disapprovingly.

“Yeah, no. I’m all the alcoholic the family needs, thanks.” Yang pouted, Weiss rolled her eyes.

“She’ll take a water as well.” Weiss informed the Waitress and she walked off to fetch the two girls their drinks.

“Could have at least treated me to one of those little umbrellas, Weiss…” Yang placed her arms over each-other on top of the desk and rested her head upon them, pouting. Sometimes it was terrifying to Weiss how similar the two half-sisters on her team could mirror the other, though she had to admit seeing this side of Yang was a bit of treat, it reminded her that the blonde could be a confusing mixture of mature, sensitive, loud as well as obnoxious, but also endearingly cute.

“Dolt.” Was all Weiss said, but the sweet and tender way in which she uttered the insult could have been confused for an affectionate term like ‘sweetie’ or something equally positive. In a certain way, it was, it had become a form of a secret dialect between Weiss and Yang where it essentially meant “I love you” in situations where Weiss couldn’t say it openly to Yang.

“Gee, maybe I should leave you lovebirds to it…” Qrow teased, taking another sip from his flask with Weiss gawking in shock, a red mist descending over her entire face.

“W-What? W-We’re not...” Weiss began through stammered words and uneven breaths, her chest feeling remarkably tight.

“Oh please. I’m a drunk, but I’m not blind or stupid.” He swirled the flask, regarding it with interest before snickering to himself “The way you looked at each-other was the same way Tai looked at Raven and Summer. And me that one night…” Qrow recounted, a puzzled but reminiscent look occupied his face. 

“Wait…!” Yang began, pushing up from the desk. “You…and Dad?!” She looked incredulous.

“It was back when we were in Beacon, we were all very drunk. He was very tender.” Yang gagged at the final statement, mock vomiting, Qrow chuckling at his Niece’s reaction. “I’m pulling your chain, Yang. It was just a kiss. We all laughed it off. Well, not Raven. She was less than pleased I kissed her boyfriend.” The mere mention of her Mother, or at least her genetic Mother, brought about a hollow feeling in Yang’s chest. She loved Summer, she was a wonderful guiding influence and Ruby got all of her best characteristics, but she knew deep down she wasn’t her real Mother. It wasn’t like she valued Raven any higher than Summer, she was resentful of the woman for abandoning her, even so a part of her still yearned for some kind of relationship with the woman. At the very least, she wanted answers. Qrow must have noticed this look on her face as he shifted in his chair, pocketing his flask; a sign he was taking this seriously now. “Yeah, I’m gonna bring up your Mother, Yang. She’s…pertinent to what’s going on.” The Waitress then returned with their drinks, their conversation falling deathly silent to avoid anything being overheard, Qrow giving a thankful nod and he motioned for them to continue once she was out of earshot.

“Do you mean the attack on Beacon?” Weiss asked and Qrow nodded.

“You guys did good, stopping the attack. Even if you did need my help a little.” Qrow smiled bleakly “You stopped your partner’s crazy ex from skewering her on his sword, sent the whole White Fang packing. Good job keeping your cool, I would have assumed you’d be blinded by anger.”

“She was, but I was with her. I reminded her that if Blake couldn’t have bested him, that running in headstrong would be to our detriment.” Weiss smiled, proud of the accomplishment, it was an important personal victory she had gotten one back on the White Fang and scuttled their plans.

“Even so, the people who orchestrated it still got what they wanted. It wasn’t just some angsty Faunas extremists wanting to tear a Huntsman school down, no. There were bigger forces at play. And ultimately, though much might not have changed other than Ozpin having to pay for the school’s reconstruction, the bad guys still got what they wanted.” 

“What did they want? Fear? Recognition?” Yang gestured with either arm in confusion, her tone getting more hurried indicating her lack of patience. Weiss moved a hand to her lover’s arm to pat her reassuringly. To her credit, Yang relaxed in her chair.

“Yes and no. Tell me, do either of you remember the tale of the Four Maidens?” Qrow inquired, the two teenagers looking puzzled by the question.

“Well, yeah? It’s a fairy tale. But what has that got to do with Raven?” Yang chewed her lip, her Uncle was always either overly sarcastic and coy, a trait she probably adopted from him, or vague in how he answered. Rarely was he ever straightforward or completely honest.

“I’m getting there.” Qrow looked over to Weiss “Is she always this bad, seriously, I can hear her tapping her foot.” Weiss understood why Yang was so eager to get an answer, so she imploringly glared at Qrow for him to continue. “Whatever. Let me paint you a picture first. Weiss, in case you didn’t know Ruby and Yang only share one parent, their Father. Taiyang Xiao Long. On Ruby’s side, her Mother was Summer Rose. But Yang’s was my sister, Raven Branwen.” He pulled out a photograph from his pocket and slid it over to the two girls. Yang and Weiss instantly noticed Qrow in the picture, Yang also recognising her Father and Summer Rose. “This was our team at Beacon, Team STRQ. We were the best of the best. Raven developed a worldview different to the rest of us. Safe to say we didn’t agree and had our fair share of arguments. For a while though, Tai managed to quell her growing…frustrations, I’ll call them, and for a brief time I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about it all. But then after you were born, Yang,” Qrow looked to her, his eyes betraying his usually cool demeanour with a hurt expression shining in them “Something changed. She changed. All her anger and spite came back. I think she was afraid what would happen to you if she didn’t do something and I don’t think she trusted Ozpin’s methods. I can’t speak for her though. Regardless, she left. Summer finally moved past her insecurities, thank God, and she told Tai that Raven wasn’t good enough for him and despite Summer’s best efforts at ruining the good thing they had with her timidities, Ruby became the product of their enduring affection. Everything seemed fine for them until…” a look of guilt overcame Qrow, he sighed before continuing “An unfortunate instance occurred, and Summer died.” Qrow took a few moments to recompose himself before he renewed his story “Now you get the whole family situation, let’s move on to the Maiden’s. Essentially, all you need to know is they’re incredibly powerful, and can create magic without the use of Dust. The Maiden’s passes on their powers to the next female that’s occupying their thoughts, unless she’s too old. In which case, a ridiculous set of convoluted rules come into play. Our Fall Maiden, Amber, was attacked by the people who orchestrated the attack on Beacon. They took her power, and now they’re very dangerous. What their exact plan is isn’t really certain. All we know is that they want to unsettle the fragile peace of the world, and replace it with Chaos. But, to do that, they need to destroy the Huntsman academies. You foiled that of course, but they won’t stop there. They’ll come back, stronger and more determined than ever. And that’s where your Mother comes in…” 

“Is she helping us stop them? Is she coming back?” Yang asked, eyes wide, hope hidden behind a façade of calm. Qrow shrugged.

“I don’t honestly know. I try to not talk to my sister all that often, she comes to me if she wants something. If we were around each-other any more than that I doubt we could keep our hands from the other’s throat. But she did contact me recently, and she and her group are here. In Vale.”

Weiss and Yang revolved to make eye contact, as little as the Heiress knew of Yang’s Mother or the intimate details of her family life, she knew from the parted lips and obvious shock reverberating in the form of her girlfriend shaking that it was clearly a momentous statement. Weiss had been privy to the details of Yang and Ruby having different Mothers, but out of respect she never tried to pry. Having it finally explained to her, and being told Raven was in Vale, helped her identify with Yang’s shock and pain. In a weird way, she felt it too.

“This is probably your best chance to get a conversation out of her, and any answers you want, Yang. I’ll keep an eye out for her too, and let you know if I find her. But what this means, my interpretation of it anyway, is that something big is coming. Worse than the attack you prevented.”

“So, why are you telling us all of this? Why expose all of this secrecy?” Weiss asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

“History is a funny thing. Often times its written to omit troubling details that challenge your worldview. Or, rewritten so people think a certain thing happened that didn’t. Sometimes things are exaggerated or diminished. And sometimes, people take steps to try and forget things they don’t want to remember…” Qrow pulled out his flask, regarding it with a sullen look. “My point is, I trust you two with the truth. I want my family to at least know what’s going on and whether I want you to be allowed to or not, you can’t just be kids anymore. A storm’s coming, and we’ll all have to ready.” Whilst the words were grim and laden with remorse from having to expose the reality of the world to the two young huntresses-in-training Weiss felt a warm glow of joy at being considered a member of the family in Qrow’s eyes. The entire Xiao Long-Branwen-Rose family seemed to all have their traits that would be seen as improper and frustrating to a Schnee, but they all seemed incredibly accepting and generous, a certain form of benevolence that Weiss appreciated. “And because I trust you, I need you to know Oz is sending me out to do some…reconnaissance. Either way, he doesn’t know about Raven, and I’d like to keep it that way. This is family business. I don’t know how long Raven will be here for, it could be permanent, it could be just a couple of days. She’s rather ambiguous to a fault about that. But I’d like you to keep an eye out and an ear open just in case.” Qrow drunk from his flask one more time before wobbly rising to his feet “Oh, this place belongs to a friend. So, if you ever need a place to relax or hide out in, just tell ‘em you’re my Niece. They’ll take care of you.”

“So,” Yang begun, unsure of what to say despite her profound and personal belief she needed to conduct herself in a swift manner. Weiss could see it playing on Yang’s face, moving her hand to stroke to trembling fists of her partner, knuckles bleeding pure white from how tightly they were balled. Weiss’ delicate, dexterous and feminine fingers were dwarfed by Yang’s in strength and hardiness. It was like a kitten to a Tiger. Yang found some comfort in it, shamelessly taking the opportunity to nuzzle into Weiss’ shoulder, to the smirk of Qrow and the vibrant blush of Weiss. “What do we do now?” Yang sounded far more secure and confident, and Weiss found some happiness in helping her achieve this.

“Beyond putting up “Worst Mother of the Year Award ceremony” posters around Vale in an attempt to lure her in? No idea.” Qrow said matter-of-factly. Yang frowned and Qrow rolled his eyes “Listen, Yang. I told you this because you deserve to know, and I want answers from Raven too, trust me. But your Mother will only be found if she wants to be. I can’t tell you what to do other than keep an eye open, ask about with shady individuals. She’d have to have snuck into the Kingdom with fake credentials otherwise I would have known. So, it’s a safe bet that those with less than reputable business practices in getting people into the Kingdom might know something.” Qrow stood up from his seat “Well, about time I head out. It was nice seeing you again, kiddo. And Weiss,” The heiress’ eyes met his own, slightly widened with anticipation at what would be said next “Keep a leash on this one. If anyone can get a calmer state of mind out of Yang, I trust it’s you.” Weiss nodded, smiling, and ignoring the slight against her; Yang stood up and hugged her Uncle. He took a moment, but he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you, so much, Uncle Qrow.” Tears glistened behind Yang’s that she fought back to stop from spilling over. Qrow’s hand came to her head, patting her gently.

“Anytime, Firecracker.”

 

Yang and Weiss were outside the establishment Qrow had brought them too, standing next to one-another in absolute silence, save for the passing cars and people passing by and chatting. Yang stood with the sole of her boot against the wall, back leaning into the concrete brick wall. Her expression was mixture of dejection, confusion and uncertainty in what she had been told; her face a window into her tortured soul. Everything felt so surreal and disordered, her entire life had been flipped upside down, a disturbing feeling gnawing at her from inside the pit of her stomach: Nervousness. She was nervous knowing that for the first time in her life that her Mother was here. In Vale. She wasn’t exactly sure if she should be ecstatic at the chance to see her, or unquenchably infuriated with the woman who abandoned her. She wanted to activate her semblance, to burst into flames and break the next person that was stupid enough to look at her wrong. But she lacked the energy and will. Contrary to that, she also wanted to slump down and cry it out. Some may have focused on the real-world fairy tales come to life in the form of the Maiden’s and how that contradicted knowledge, history and religion at the basis of the collective culture of humanity. Yang, however, didn’t care. Regardless of what she knew or not it never really changed how you could live your life, or what you could do. It didn’t really strike her all that personally, but she assumed if someone did try and end her way of life or the status quo she would readily stand in their way. But right now, it was the personal pain on her mind. Her Mother. Raven.

Weiss saw these mixtures of pains and torment on Yang’s face, immediately telling herself that she had to do something, anything to relieve her lover of this deeply personal trauma and pain, and the destructively depressing mindset it was imposing on Yang. She moved in front of Yang, cupping the blonde’s face. The smaller girl rose on her tiptoes, an act Yang always both appreciated and couldn’t help but find adorable. Being the smallest in the group despite her age, Weiss was self-conscious about her height and hated comments revolving around it. She preferred it when Yang bent down to kiss her, since then it wasn’t so much an emphasis on Weiss’ minuscule nature so much as Yang’s elevation. At least, that’s how Weiss chose to see it. It was Yang descending to Weiss’ level, rather than Weiss bring herself to Yang’s. It was an important distinction. So, to see Weiss voluntarily leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss her, made Yang very grateful. Her problems and concerns faded away, as she snaked an arm around the heiress, as close to her butt as she could. It was one of Yang’s favourite aspects of her girlfriend’s body, after all.

“Yang, I want you to know no matter what, I will never leave. No matter how, insecure, or stupid, or immature I can be, I…” Weiss began, before Yang resumed their kiss, hunger and passion mixing into one as Yang robbed Weiss of breath. She nibbled Weiss’ lips, never moving into using her tongue but happily teasing Weiss as she sucked on her lips.

“Thank you.” Yang said, tears in her eyes, Weiss understanding Yang didn’t really need words, the blonde always favouring action. Weiss took Yang’s head in her arms and took the initiative once more, by kissing Yang, their kiss chaste but hungry.

“I never thought I’d get a kiss from you in public…” Yang teased, her voice lacking its regular upbeat emotion, but she still managed a smile.

Weiss smirked, seeing the humour in Yang’s statement. “I can read a situation, you know. I’m new to dating, not ignorant. Besides, Blake’s books were…descriptive about this topic.” Weiss’ face was marred in a blush, her smile twitching from the embarrassment she was fighting back.

Yang shuddered “Yuck. She showed me one once, the quiet ones are always the weirdest…” Weiss giggled and took her place by Yang’s side once more, moving her hand to entwine her fingers with Yang’s, who instinctively mirrored her action. 

“Yang. I know this is sudden and must be very difficult for you. But can I ask? What do you want to do? About your Mother, I mean.”

Yang stared off into the distance for a moment. There were so many things she had to decide upon. How involved she wanted to be with her Uncle and preventing this supposed looming threat as well as finding her Mother taking top priority of all of them. But there was also surpassing Pyyrha. There was helping team RWBY graduate as huntresses. Besides, there was already an inner circle close to Ozpin who were working to protect humanity. It wouldn’t hurt for Yang to be selfish, would it? She smirked, a faint blush adorning the otherwise unflappable blonde “Right now, all I want to do is take you in my arms, and lie down in our bed. Together.”


	4. The Cat’s out of the bag (Not you, Blake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss takes her first few tentative steps out of the glass closet.

Yang slowly roused from her sleep, light filtering through the cracks in her eyelids as she slowly acclimated to conscious world. She drooped her head to the side and saw what was possibly the most adorable sight imaginable, or it was in her eyes at least. Weiss Schnee was resting her head upon Yang’s own shoulder as she gently snoozed. Her body was on its side, tucked in slightly with her arms clutched around Yang’s waist. Her breathing was soft, gentle and intrinsically rhythmic. Her small but alluring and feminine chest rose with each breath, her face a beautiful synthesis of serenity innocence. It betrayed the usual defensive and cold layering she used to protect herself when meeting new people or her general interactions with others. 

Upon first meeting Weiss, Yang had assumed that Weiss did this solely because she was privileged and believed she was superior to everybody else in the world. Whilst Weiss may not convey it well or offer convincing enough evidence to suggest this wasn’t true (by all means her arrogance tended to speak for itself) Yang had come to learn Weiss was only like this out of necessity and convention. She had been taught, maliciously, that there were certain ways higher society had to act and if she didn’t she would be cast aside and forgotten about. Her very survival up to applying for Beacon literally relied on the proper greeting, correct posture, humour, opinions and attitudes. Weiss had been moulded into exactly what Atlesian society saw best fit for her purpose as an heiress. She was kept on a collar and leash, and Yang knew even when there was a humble and kind soul buried beneath, it had been warped by the teachings and society she had to adhere to. So, when it came to precious moments like this, Yang was thankful that all despite all that Weis had to suffer through, she could help the girl sleep softly. No matter how bad Weiss got with her various assumptions about the world, that had admittedly become rarer and rarer the longer in which she was housed with the rest of team RWBY, Yang knew it didn’t come from a place of hatred, resentment or personal belief in a hierarchy of worth. It didn’t excuse Weiss from her mistakes, but it meant that it wasn’t sincere or done capriciously. It was an ingrained aspect of Weiss’ character, one that Yang would spend as long as was needed to help Weiss overcome it and see the world in its true light, even if she was ignorant to a few things herself. Not like they couldn’t learn together.

Whilst the more abstract analysis of Weiss’ character could be perceived to Yang through the comparison of Weiss’ attitude to her sleeping tranquillity, it could not also be ignored just how adorable Yang thought she was. She was clung to Yang’s body, her gasp comfortable and not too demanding. She buried herself into Yang’s neck, mewling in her sleep and murmuring something or other about not eating anything more as if could ruin her figure. Yang couldn’t help but nuzzle into the soft tresses of ivory hair, giggling at the childlike nature of Weiss’ complaints and the lack of conviction behind her sleepy drawl. 

Yang stroked her fingers through Weiss’ hair, having been let down as she always did to sleep, much to the smaller girl’s pleasure as she sighed contently in her sleep and settled in deeper to Yang’s neck, nuzzling it more while a small smile graced her lips. Yang placed a soft kiss atop Weiss’ head, appreciating the tender and quiet comfort of residing in their own bed. Although the attack on Beacon had been routed swiftly, and the Vytal Festival had reconvened despite a small delay to repair any damage brought about by the White Fang and the Grimm that they had brought with them, the dorms had been under reconstruction due to damages they sustained, although mostly light and in most cases just superficial, the students had been placed in temporary lodgings with other teams, making it difficult for Weiss and Yang to share any intimate moments. Yang was so thankful that in the two months since the Vytal tournament had ended, they had been finally let back into their rooms and refurnished it just as it had been, with a few additions made such as a personal desktop outfitted into every dorm room thanks to compensation from the Vale Council. Regardless, the routine had been normalised and Yang and Weiss were finally able to just enjoy the comfort of their own beds again, or bed as it were since they were sharing Weiss’ more often than not. 

Blake never complained, and the innocent nature of Ruby never seemed to take notice. Yang and Weiss did do a poor job of hiding their supposedly hidden relationship, and if Nora and Ren’s reaction to Weiss’ emotional tirade about Yang’s safety was anything to go by it was clear that two of their closest friends were completely aware of the relationship between them. Surprisingly, Weiss hadn’t made too much of a deal about it, Yang chalked it up to Weiss simply trusting Blake despite the two of them never formally admitting the state of affairs to the Cat Faunas. Ren wasn’t exactly a loudmouth and was perfectly happy to protect the clandestine nature of Yang’s and Weiss’ dating, meaning Nora couldn’t exactly gossip about it.

Yang groaned, she was thinking too much for 6AM in the morning, they still had three hours before classes started and Yang never started preparations for getting out of bed before 8AM. Weiss preferred taking the initiative, being up for 7AM to secure herself a warm shower, a small piece of divergence between the couple, but Yang was more than happy to stir Weiss from her slumber to give her girlfriend an opportunity to shower, much as it pained her to sacrifice the peacefulness in which Weiss was slumbering.

“Weissy.” Yang whispered, as sweetly as she could into her girlfriend’s ear in an attempt to finally bring an end to her slumber, but all the heiress did was whimper in her sleep and nuzzle deeper into Yang. “Come on, my Princess” Yang taunted and Weiss mumbled almost incoherently back.

“Yang…not…a princess, out of my dreams please…” Weiss yawned, her eyes slowly fluttering open. Her ice-blue pools were glazed and uncoordinated, barely perceiving the world thanks to her drowsy state. Yang smiled, leaning down and capturing Weiss in a kiss. Weiss was flung back into consciousness, shock soon being replaced by the pure bliss of kissing Yang. 

“Morning, gorgeous.”

“Mmm, a very good one at that.” Weiss pulled Yang’s body flush against her own, taking the time to enjoy the combination of bodacious curves and firm muscles of Yang’s body, hiding deceptively below the surface. 

“Unless you want to give Blake and Ruby a show, I suggest we move back to our own beds.” Weiss seemed lost in thought, the motion of her cheek clearly showing she was chewing on the inside of her mouth. “Weiss? Something that matter?” Yang inquired.

“Yang, I know I said I wanted this to be private but…if I’m going to be comfortable with who I am. What I am. I need to take some bold steps.” She pecked Yang on the lips in a swift motion, before leaning back, siting up shoulder to shoulder with Yang, staring straight into the lavender orbs of her lover. “I want to be okay with being gay. I don’t want to fear my Father.” She squeezed Yang’s hand, and felt the blonde squeeze back, bringing a slight curve of a smile to Weiss’ face. “I want to tell everyone I’m the lucky individual who Yang Xiao Long chose.” The both of them blushed, Yang rubbing the back of her head to try and expel the nervous energy at being giddily happy at Weiss’ profession of her affections. “Besides, I think it’s unfair not to tell Blake and Ruby. They’re our teammates, and you remember what Goodwitch said about being a team that requires synergy in every aspect of our lives?”

“What’s unfair not to tell us?” Yang and Weiss whipped their heads around to see a yawning Blake, a sardonic smile streaked along her lips. Yang’s eyes went utterly wide, her mouth hung open and she attempted to produce words, but instead her lips just flapped like that of a fish. Weiss wasn’t much better, trying to overanalyse whether Blake had found out what they were talking about. Neither of them had been too loud, but Blake was a Faunas. Her hearing was far superior to that of a regular human’s. “Relax. I’m happy for you two. And let’s be honest Yang, I’ve been more than complicit in giving you alone time with Weiss. Did you think I assumed you were just playing cards, or studying?” that had been the initial lie Yang fashioned for Blake. That Yang wanted tutoring and help with her homework and was embarrassed to ask for it in front of her sister. Although, there were some obvious faults in her lie that someone like Blake would be sceptical of at the least, and most likely simply refuse to believe at all. 

Yang poked her index fingers together pushing out her cheeks in a pout “Let’s see you come up with a better alternative…”

Blake chuckled, moving towards the bathroom “Right. Well anyway, don’t worry about anything from me. Weiss, despite your immediate prejudices about me being a Faunas you haven’t told anybody. I owe it to all of you to keep a secret and to help however I can. You’ve both done so much for me and my problems with the White Fang, I’m more than happy to facilitate the privacy of your budding romance.” Blake opened the door to the bathroom, smirking at Weiss and her growing smile of gratitude “Plus you’re both cute together.” She winked, Weiss blushed harder than ever before and grabbed her pillow to hide behind, burying her face into it. “You should probably tell Ruby while I’m in the shower. Oh. I also call dibs on the shower.” And with that, the cat Faunas closed the door on them, silence returning to the room with only the patter of muffled water coming from the bathroom, and Ruby’s quiet snoring breaking the hush over Team RWBY’s dorm room.

“Damn, she used the international dibs system.” Yang quipped sarcastically “And when did she become so sarcastic and talented in teasing?” Yang questioned.

“She’s your partner. Being around you has that effect. And she’s always been sarcastic.” Weiss retorted and Yang nodded casually, Blake did have a dry humour, it was just rare for it to flourish. “So, what do we do about Ruby?” Weiss gestured with her eyes up to the bunk above them.

“Oh, I’ve got this one!” Yang winked and Weiss’ expression contorted into apprehension at Yang’s words. The brawler jumped off their bed, and pulled herself up by the edge of Ruby’s bunk, hanging off the edge of it with her chin resting on that mattress. She took a deep breath “Ruby! Wake up, lazy butt! Zwei just peed all over your cape!” Weiss had to cover her mouth to restrain laughter as she heard a terrified yelp from Ruby, who ungracefully rolled off her bed and collapsed onto the ground below with a thud.

“Zwei! You dummy you better…hey…wait a minute…Zwei’s back home with Dad!” Ruby realised, rubbing her back from the fall off her bed, Yang soon joining her in a heap as her own laughter resulted in her losing muscle control. She grabbed hold of her gut, rolling onto her side, her mirth uncontrollable.

“Oh…my…god…so worth it!” Yang smothered Ruby in a bone-crushing hug, the younger sibling begging Yang for oxygen, with Weiss giggling quietly to herself as she observed the affections of the two siblings from the edge of her bed. The joyful everyday lives of their team had initially been nothing but an annoyance and disturbance. She had wanted to be placed on a team which would only further skill in combat and knowledge of the school curriculum. But for the first time she understood why Ozpin saw it fit for her to be a part of team RWBY, and not allow her to switch teams. Without them she would still be stuck up, locked in her own illusionary world of being the heiress to the SDC, her own importance and standing and worth above that of everybody else, incapable of forming meaningful bonds. She was grateful of the fact she could laugh and joke around with her friends, her real friends. Not some distant, unrealistic goal she would sombrely wish for.

That wasn’t all, Weiss was feeling a sizable degree of reprieve at the comical interactions of her teammates, especially since it was primarily coming from Yang. She had been concerned for Yang after the conversation they had shared with Qrow from the previous day, yet it didn’t seem to be on Yang’s mind in the least. At the very least Yang wasn’t letting it affect her outwardly, and although they would need a serious discussion about it in the near future, for now she was content with just enjoying the day to day merriment that had become synonymous with team RWBY.

“Yang! You suck so much!” Ruby complained.

“Oh yeah?” A sadistic grin formed on Yang’s face, the one that indicated her sisterly wrath would fall upon Ruby for daring to slander her elder sibling. Ruby trembled in fear, her smile a front for the terror that resounded in her very soul. “I suck huh? Not a nice way to great your big sister in the morning, sis.” 

“H-Hey, I-I was just messing around! Y-Yang…Yang!” Ruby squealed pathetically as Yang descended upon her sister, her fingers working up and down the sides of Ruby’s abdomen as she mercilessly tickled her sister, Ruby’s pained laughter and writhing was both hilarious to and evoked sympathy from, Weiss, but she knew better than to interfere with Yang’s attacks physically.

“Yang, we have something to tell Ruby, remember? Leave her with some oxygen left so she doesn’t go into cardiac arrest, would you?”

Yang relented in her demonic variance of affectionate sisterly torture, albeit with a reluctant huff, before sitting beside Weiss. Ruby looked up from the ground below them, half wheezing out her remaining laughter, half looking at them with an air of intrigue written on her face at what the two older members of her team wanted to discuss. 

“W-What’s up, you two?” Ruby asked, finally getting her breathing under control. Ruby was thankful at the least, even for a serious dialogue between the three of them, as Yang’s usually remorseless form of punishment for Ruby’s snide comments was unbearable and she usually broke out into apology before long. Ruby did not have the physical or mental capacity to withstand Yang’s tickling.

Yang crossed a leg on top of the other, a remarkably ladylike reposition of her posture that didn’t go unnoticed by either Ruby or Weiss. Yang’s feminine tendencies usually started and ended with her hair, and everything after that could only be described by Yang as a comfort decision. Or a wink, when she was being flirtatious. The fact she was trying to look pensive and mature, was all it took for Ruby’s smile to melt into a straight-faced expression and realise the supposed significance of what was to follow. She looked back to notice Blake was not occupying her bed, and then turned back to her sister and partner.

“Is it about Blake?” She asked, contemplatively. Weiss shook her head and cleared her throat. She had been comforted by the fact Yang was being sober and serious, but it also acted to remind her that they were coming out to Ruby, Yang’s younger sister, and Weiss wasn’t sure what reaction to expect. On one hand, Ruby was a very open minded person who never judged or formed presuppositions about people, and as such she might be entirely supportive. But Ruby was also young and incredibly defensive and possessive of her older sister, probably from a life of being spoiled by Yang and the older girl acting as a surrogate for her own deceased Mother, and she had been known to sometimes fly into emotional outbursts at times. Weiss was considerate of that, playing with her hands nervously. 

“No, it’s not about Blake, we told her before you woke up.” Weiss responded calmly.

“Then…me? Did I do something bad?” the younger girl was known to have her moments of weakness thanks to her lack of self-confidence at times.

Yang smiled, reaching down to ruffle Ruby’s hair, the younger girl doing her best to fight off Yang, embarrassment swarming around her at Yang’s affections “Nah Rubes, it’s about me and Weiss. We’re…kind of a couple.”

Pure silence descended upon the dorm room again, Ruby blinked a few times without her face forming a reactive expression, which Weiss assumed was from her processing her undoubted infuriation. Weiss shut her eyes tight, and waited for inexorable rage demanding satisfaction in the form of vengeance for Weiss stealing her sister away from her. Yet the silence persisted, and Weiss took a few seconds to tentatively open her eyes, only to see Ruby’s head, tilted in perplexity. 

“Oh. Yeah, I knew that already.” Ruby waved the admission from the two of them off as nothing, looking almost amused at their retrospective seriousness in approaching the topic. 

Weiss and Yang looked at each-other in bewilderment “You…did?” Weiss said, exploring Ruby’s response as if it were a rickety bridge that could collapse at any second. Mistrustful it was honest, mostly because she couldn’t quite fathom how Ruby would have learnt about it. She had seemed innocently ignorant of their romantic involvement.

Ruby rolled her eyes “You guys have been flirting and staring at each-other since we first moved into this room. It’s kinda hard not to notice.” 

“She also asked me and I all but confirmed it the first time you asked me to give you two space.” They all turned to see Blake with a towel tied around her waist to protect her modesty. Ruby pouted at Blake, sticking her tongue out at the Cat Faunas, which only acted to amuse Blake as she sauntered over to her drawers to retrieve her clothes.

“Blake! I totally knew anyway! They’re not the stealthiest!” Ruby said and Blake chuckled whilst the couple simply blushed, Yang swirling her hair around her finger as she stared off into the distance, almost indignant at the comment and Weiss failed in covering her blush with her hand.

“True. They’re almost as bad as Pyrrha was with Jaune. He was oblivious.”

Weiss crossed her arms over her chest “Oh please. We couldn’t possibly be that bad. Practically everyone in Beacon knew about that except for Jaune.”

“Yeah, he was as dense as Weiss is grouchy in the morning.” Ruby slapped her knee at her own joke, laughing enthusiastically at her own comparison, earning a scowl from Weiss, although it lacked the same intensity it once did. 

She lacked the energy to argue properly with Ruby, and she had come to respect and care for her partner that the look was more of a playful response. Additionally, she knew she could be more short-tempered before she had her early morning coffee, so it wasn’t as if the comment was lost on her.

An excited countenance took hold on Ruby’s face, and in a flash of petals she was crouched behind Yang and Weiss, hands on either shoulder. “This is so great! My sister and my BFF! Oh, my god, Weiss! We’re gonna be sisters-in-law!” Ruby giggled and made to flash off again, only for Yang to grab her by the collar while the girl was mid-air, so she hung there, limbs flailing.

“Easy, little sister. Early days yet. Don’t go scaring Weiss with big claims like that. We’re taking things slow.” Yang said, and Ruby sulked, before being lowered to the ground.

Weiss felt a small twinge of guilt, the two of them had been together since just before the Vytal festival began, around three months ago, by this point. Whilst marriage wasn’t exactly her next intended step she certainly continued to feel bad about slowly moving forwards with their relationship. Yang had always professed she was happy as long as Weiss was happy, but she wanted to prove to Yang it wasn’t something purely physical and secret. She wanted to give Yang an indication not only this meant something to her, but she wanted to be around for the long haul. There was always the practical part of her brain always telling her keeping it simple and secret reduced the risk of it getting back to her Father and ruining everything, but her heart wanted to hold Yang’s hand in public. Go on real dates. She wanted to be romantic and honest with herself. She wanted to stop being afraid.

“Yang.” Weiss said, her tone changing to a measured and determined setting. Yang raised an eyebrow, taking note of her girlfriend rising to her feet. “I don’t wish to force the issue. But I want to tell team JNPR about us. That we’re dating. I feel like…no. I want us to move forward. I want to show how much you mean to me.” It made sense, or so Weiss thought. As annoying as Jaune had been in his pursuit of Weiss, he was a kind person. All of the team were, the eight of them had become inseparable over their time at Beacon and regularly hung out either for recreational activities or training. Yet they were still divorced enough from the intimate affairs of team RWBY that it felt like a big enough progressive leap forward for Weiss.

Yang looked confused, her eyes went instantly wide, but they settled into a smile, her hand moving towards Weiss’. It was a tiny gesture, Weiss knew that. But it seemed Yang was both appreciative of it and, although Weiss couldn’t be sure of it, it appeared as it there was a twinkling of pride also. Pride. An emotion Weiss felt plenty of in herself, sometimes to her detriment, but rarely had it ever came from an external source. Her Father never showed her pride, either acceptance, disappointment, or apathy. Her heart soared at the look Yang was giving her, if she were a weaker person she might break down and cry in Yang’s arms out of happiness, but she held herself together, and allowed Yang to pull her into her lover’s arms, her head resting on her chest as those strong and protective hands stroked down her ivory tresses.

“I’m so proud of you, Weiss. I love you.” 

Blake and Ruby both smiled as Yang had a wide sappy smile on her face, clearly feeling a sense of delight one couldn’t explain with simple words or phrasing. They simply looked right, cuddled tightly together. Weiss had fallen for a girl most took for a wild, uncontrollable personification of freedom, whom had turned out to be equal parts mature and juvenile, but protective of what she cared for. She admired Yang so much for how she took charge and ran straight forward tackling any problem she encountered. 

As for Yang, the blonde had seen Weiss as a challenge, initially. She wanted to break down the barriers surrounding her teammates heart and make her see what real joy and excitement were, to not block out everyone and place herself on a pedestal above all. But she had realised, the closer they had gotten, the challenge itself wasn’t what drew her to Weiss, it had been the heiress herself. The beautiful, unapologetically terse and opinionated girl had challenged Yang in every aspect of her life. And no matter how many times they argued Yang could see through the exterior defences Weiss had put up. Inside she saw a kind, but scared girl. A girl who had been locked away from everybody else. She saw someone who felt abandoned by fate and justice, never to have friends or people who truly loved her. Yang empathised from the beginning with that, knowing the pain of abandonment in its unadulterated form. It drew her to Weiss, and the more she saw of the true form of Weiss, the clearer it was she loved her. She loved the arrogant and perfectionistic Heiress who never surrendered, determined to succeed, but she also loved the scared and emotionally frail girl who hid behind that. It was an odd couple, there was no doubt that could be had over how different they were, but those differences only seemed to draw them closer.

She dipped her head down and kissed Weiss’ head, smiling into it.

“Come on. Let’s get ready for class, and then we can tell JNPR, got it?” Yang smiled, and she could feel Weiss’ eager nod of her head against her chest, and the blush-coated smile accompanying it.

 

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Nora screamed as she jumped off her bed, punching the air in a celebration of victory. 

“Nora! Language.” Ren reprimanded Nora, who seemed to pay no attention as she danced, shifting her weight from foot to foot, in victory.

Both team RWBY and team JNPR had gathered in team JNPR’s dorm room for a surprise announcement from Yang and Weiss, the latter of whom had her head buried into the taller girl’s arm to hide her embarrassment after, albeit slowly, admitting the current state of affair in terms of romance between them. Weiss nuzzled into Yang, whom slung her arm around Weiss’ shoulder and pulled her in tight for security and to remind her she was always there to supply comfort and support. 

“But it’s true! That guy Sun owes me 20 Lien!” Nora exclaimed jovially, to which Ren simply rolled his eyes. Pyrrha gave a small clap in response to their revelation.

“Whatever the case, we’re all happy for you two, right Jaune?” The crimson-haired Warrior turned to the blonde, who was still processing. His eyes looked vacant for a moment, and he was incapable of expression what must have been a myriad of thoughts.

“So…you’re…a Lesbian, Weiss?” he finally stuttered out.

“Yes. All my life. Or certainly since puberty, at least.” She said straightforwardly. The more thought she gave it, the less sure she was when she really realised she was gay. Weiss knew she always had inclinations towards being in female groups, but it had always been buried deep down because of her Father's vitriolic hatred for anything that went against the grain. It didn't particularly matter, but ever since she was young, there were telltale signs, but nothing that outright exposed it to her until her teenage years, when she realised lesbian romance was a preference of her own. Not to mention lesbian porn, but she wouldn't be caught dead admitting that.

“So, every time you shot me down it was because I’m a man? Not because you didn’t like me?” he said, hope seeping into his voice. Weiss almost felt like the humane thing to do was to allow him that hope and live in a delusional world, but the whole point of today was to be honest and to leave no question unanswered. To lay everything bare.

“No. I thought you were an annoying pest.” Every muscle in Jaune’s body dejectedly sagged, and Pyrrha patted him compassionately on the back. “And to begin with I was afraid of what…who, I am.” Weiss corrected herself, knowing full well there was no need any more to pretend like she wasn’t gay. She had accepted it, and embraced it. “If you had been a woman and so ludicrously flirted and asked me out, I most likely would have reacted the same way.”

“I’m the problem…body and mind…” Jaune said dismally.

Weiss rolled her eyes and sighed, she didn’t mean to hurt him so. She didn’t take pride in reducing him to a pitiful wreck, but in some ways, he did have it coming. “Listen, Jaune. It doesn’t matter. You’re a kind person, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider you a friend. You have many positive attributes it just wasn’t meant to be.” Weiss compromised and Jaune sat up a little to look her in the eye, nodding.

“Yeah, can’t win ‘em all.”

“Besides, from what we’ve heard, it’s not like it even matters. Right, Pyrrha?” Yang winked, and the crimson haired warrior smiled proudly, a faint blush developed across her cheeks but Pyrrha looked resolute in victory.

“Jaune, they were kind enough to make an announcement. Should we follow in kind?” Pyrrha took the blonde’s hand in her own, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He smiled and nodded, they both stood up and made to the centre of the room where Yang and Weiss had been, the two of them making way for Jaune and Pyrrha.

“Yeah. Basically, me and Pyrrha, uh…well, we were on the battlefield at the Attack on Beacon and after we had pushed the White Fang out of the school’s court yard we were both so full of adrenaline and were so in the moment…” Jaune looked around nervously, his lips curling into a smile at the memory.

“He kissed me! It was so romantic! Just like I dreamed!” She brought both hands to her cheeks, now fully flushed, swaying from side to side in joy. Jaune giggled held her in his arms, his partner moving to do the same.

“Wow, kinda stole our thunder there, Pyrrha.” Yang smirked, too happy at their own ecstasy to properly complain.

“I guess that means I beat you again, Yang.” Pyrrha teased. 

“Huh, think so? Maybe we should go another round in the sparring room if you think you’re so tough, Nikos!” Yang challenged with a smile, cracking her knuckles.

“I’d be happy to make it three to nothing, Yang.” Pyrrha placed her hands on her hips, both of them elated to have a fierce rival in the other, whilst still retaining a stalwart friendship.

“Oh! Oh! Better idea! Better idea!” Nora had a sadistic grin on her face, the psychotic redhead formulating a no doubt maleficent proposal. “Competition so see who can kiss their partner the longest without taking a breath!”

“We’d win, no questions asked. Right Weiss?” Yang grinned, Weiss’ face turning as red as Yang’s eyes when her semblance was activated.

“I, uhh…well…” Weiss stammered, a mixture of embarrassment and longing at having people potentially watching her kiss Yang, but also the prospect of feeling Yang’s lips on her own had become and addicting enticement. 

“So, sure are you, Yang? Why not put your confidence to the test? Shall we, Jaune?” Both Pyyrha and Yang took their respective partners by the waist and drew them close, despite their possible reservations. Meanwhile, Blake covered Ruby’s eyes, as the younger girl had been watching on with vehement interest, moping over having her vision censored. 

Weiss and Jaune shared a knowing glance towards one-another, they had become the latest victims of the competitive nature of their partners. Although, it wasn’t all bad. It was a chance to kiss their lover’s, after all. A prospect both of them eagerly accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was primarily written to give Weiss a little bit more development in the romantic sub-plot. Let her hash out some concerns and grow as a person. And now her team are in the know, even if they were already well aware. Some adorable team RWBY hi-jinks are always nice too.
> 
> And based psycho-Nora. She just wants what's best for her team (for entertainment value as an observer, of course).
> 
> There's me being sappy and wanting Jaune and Pyrrha to be a happy couple. I like the idea of Pyrrha being a little bit overconfident (or completely realistic, perspective is a funny thing) and happily challenging/goading Yang into competitive scenarios. Jaune and Pyrrha will be semi-prominent, but not as a couple. It's just something I ham-fisted into the plot early on and wanted to give them some form conclusion to their romantic sub-plot from the show. You know, without Pyrrha dying in the process.
> 
> Next chapter we get into the major direction of the plot. No spoilers, but Ruby's eyes aren't the only silver thing that's prominent. Do with that cryptic hint what you will.


	5. A SLVR Lining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake hit the town and the gears of fate begin to turn once more.

“Not that I need an excuse to come out to the city with you Yang, but are we here for any particular reason?” Blake asked as she and Yang wondered aimlessly down the streets of the commercial district of Vale, rows of shops all displaying their wares and advertising whatever deals they have to entice the potential customer.

Yang let out a low hum as she clasped her bands behind her head, burying them into her blonde locks as she searched for the appropriate way of voicing her explanation for their current expedition outside of Beacon academy. A certain topic had been on her mind for the last few days ever since both she and Weiss had officially announced their relationship. The issue was that Weiss had been tacking a litany of both small and grandiose steps with their relationship in the past few weeks whilst Yang had remained unexpectedly passive. Whilst it was true she always acted as a point of reassurance and had far more, notwithstanding the casual nature, familiarity with dating and romantic activities that naturally entailed with it. But even if it was a time for Weiss to be exploring her own forms of individualism and growth, Yang couldn’t just stand around. She was at her best when vigorously taking action, even when she resembled a rampaging Ursa in both tactfulness and practicality.

“Promise not to laugh at me, or anything?” Yang smiled and Blake gave her a pensive look initially, but she nodded with a wistful smirk.

“I’ll try, but being around you certainly has given me a far more acute sense of humour.” Yang snorted at her partner, Blake had truly started to emerge from her shell in the last couple of months and Yang felt as if some credit was certainly owed to herself for that. Many may argue Yang could be a chaotic force that if left unchecked could lead many down a degenerative path in terms of a tendency to follow the rules. However, it was equally true that she pulled people out of their self-imposed exile from proper socialisation, and Blake was the foremost example of that.

“Sure. The thing is, I’ve been wanting to get Weiss a little present just to…see her light up, I guess.” Yang shrugged, moving her hands to her hips as the two of them stopped in the middle of the street. Blake placed her hands over her chest and had a sentimental look to her.

“Yang, that’s so sweet. You romantic.” Blake nudged her partner with the point of her elbow and Yang closed her eyes, nodding like she was proud of herself, mixed with the moderate flush of embarrassment she only ever lightly donned when speaking of Weiss. “But why me? You could have asked Ruby? She’s Weiss’ partner after all. Or Jaune and Pyyrha, they’re an actual couple.” Blake pointed out the potential pitfalls in Yang’s strategy.

“All true, my femininely feline friend.”

“Nice alliteration.” Blake said sardonically and Yang bowed in exaggerative appreciation.

“You do have a point, but you’re my best friend. I trust your opinion above all else.” Blake appreciated that, being trusted so much by Yang really meant a lot to her. Never did she think a human would be so capable of being so open-minded and happy to employ trust in her after learning of her affiliation with the White Fang, but Yang Xiao Long came with a myriad of surprises. “Plus, the idea I have in mind is best suited for someone with the interests of which only you share.” Blake raised an eyebrow inquisitively, gesturing for Yang to continue. “I was thinking, Weiss has an avid interest in singing, correct?”

“Every chance she gets, yeah. In the shower, practicing when she’s alone, or when she thinks she’s alone anyway.” They both amusedly recalled the memories of Weiss assuming nobody was around and would break out into a symphony of wondrous lyrical exaltation of whatever topic was on her mind at that time. Usually she could be found absent-mindedly humming to herself, and if it hadn’t been for her determination of being Huntress Yang definitely had Weiss pegged to be the next break out singer of Remnant, beloved by all because of her encapsulating voice regardless of musical preference.

“Exactly. So, I thought about what I could do to try and support that passion of hers. And then I thought: Oh! There has to be a book of songs Weiss could learn! And who do we know that just so happens to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of bookstores?” Yang smiled at the prospect of Blake being advantageous to her own relationship, the blonde leaning in as she did so, cupping her own chin as Blake rolled her eyes.

“All-right, I get it. I’m not that well versed on books primarily about ballads, but I know a place that does an extensive list of poetry anthologies and other such forms of written works that may be to Weiss’ taste.” Blake explained and Yang pumped her fist, before wrapping Blake in an affectionate hug, her partner patting her on the shoulder.

“Thanks, so much Blake! You’re the best!” Yang swayed happily with Blake, who enjoyed the tender moment between friends and was pleased to see Yang so excited over something so trivial. Love did wonderfully strange things to people.

Suddenly the platonic moment of fondness the two shared was broken up by shouting from down the street. Yang released Blake from her grasp and they both turned to look down the road to see a hooded man sprinting away as a man in what could only be described by Yang as the most elaborately typically dressed scientist she could ever see, white lab coat, greying hair cut short without any particular style and a light stubble across his aged features, trying and failing to keep up with the hooded man’s pace, shouting obscenities and demanding he stop.

“Thief! Return it at once!” He demanded, shaking his fist in the air as the hooded figure darted towards an alley, the scientist in his long white jacket pausing in fatigue, no doubt lacking the stamina to keep up a prolonged chase. “Somebody stop him!” he begged.

Blake and Yang shared a knowing look before they nodded and broke out into a sprint “Blake! Try and head him off at the other side! I’ll shadow him!” Without a moment’s hesitation Blake sprinted down the street path that had been opposite them only seconds before whilst Yang continued down the alleyway that bended at a 90-degree angle back in the direction the road they had been walking down lead in. Yang had no idea what this hooded thief had supposedly stole, but it was her duty to try and recover it since there had been no law enforcement in the immediate vicinity.

Yang rounded the corner at felt something hit her forcefully in the face, whisking her off her feet and down onto the unforgiving ground without any give. Her nose burnt with the sensation of crimson ichor running from inside it. Her aura quickly began heeling the small fracture and cuts, but the awareness that blood was running down her chin was all too persistent. She wiped at the viscous liquid with the back of her hand and slowly rose to her feet, glaring ahead to see the hooded man stood with his elbow protruding outwards in a striking stance, indicating he was her attacker. 

The thief was outfitted with a black fleece with a hood drawn over his head, a shadow cast down his face covering his features apart from an arrogant sneer decorating his face. He had silver gloves that glowed a variance of colour down each finger, most likely with Dust, or so Yang presumed. Additionally, he had tattered-styled jeans tucked into brown combat boots.

Yang peered behind him to see Blake finally arrive at the other end of the alleyway, upon noticing Yang’s still partially blood-stained face she appreciated the gravity of the situation and made to grab gambol shroud, only to remember she didn’t bring her weapon given she was not expecting to fight someone with obvious enough skill to blindside Yang in the manner he did. Yang stood up to her height, a growl escaping her lips as she activated Ember Celica, as she fortuitously wore them wherever she was without fail. Excluding her sleep, of course. 

“Okay, smartass. You’re gonna give us whatever it is you stole. Right. Now.” Yang barked, taking her stance. The thief looked confused by the plural way in which Yang spoke, looking behind him to see Blake blocking his only escape route before nodding in appreciation of Yang’s foresight. 

“Ah, of course. Forgot that you Huntsmen tend to travel in pairs. Smart.” He looked between the two of them and prepared his own stance, open-palmed with one foot placed in front of the other, leaning his weight forwards. “But I’m not in the situation where I can just give it back to you. But by all means, try and take it. I’ve got no qualms with hitting a girl.” He motioned with his fingers for Yang to attack, smiling cockily, and that was all the excuse she needed.

Yang burst forward, leaping at him with a right hook, not prepared to use up Ember Celica’s ammunition early on like she had with Pyyrha, instead opting for feeling out her opponent first. She was going to listen to Weiss: Keep her cool and not do anything stupid. This guy already had the drop on her and drew first blood, both metaphorically and literally, so it made no sense to be reckless. 

The thief ducked under her lunge and hook, grabbing her arm and throwing her over his shoulders and back in a swift motion. It was a move that was simple, yet unmissable in how recognisable it was: an arm-drag. 

Yang landed with a hard bump on the unforgiving ground once more, wincing in pain as she sprung back onto her feet, allowing her aura to do its job yet again. She chewed the inside of her mouth as she sized up her opponent, who had his open palms once again pressed in her direction, awaiting her next attempt at offence. It wasn’t ideal that she was having to use her aura to dull the pain in her body multiple times without trading any damage back to the thief, but she was in the process of analysing his style and it was getting clearer. Yang crept forward at a slower pace this time, getting in close, only for him to surprise her by leaping into the air with a spin and leading with a kick. With little time to contemplate the unexpected attack or devise a reversal, Yang opted for blocking with her gauntlet and pushing him off behind her. He landed in a crouch, smirking. Right then Blake appeared behind him, ready to strike, having moved up to properly support Yang who had been struggling up to that point. Almost omnisciently, he swivelled around to block Blake’s attempted kick for his head, only for her shin to phase through his arm he had intended to block with, and fizzle into thin air. He looked incredulous at the disappearing act, only for the real Blake to emerge from the side, kicking him straight in the chest, followed by an elbow strike straight to the solar plexus. Blake could be considered a little dirty in the way she fought and used her semblance, but she wasn’t too bothered by the interpretation any longer of something that she felt used to mirror her own cowardice, all that mattered right now was aiding her partner.

“Yang! Now!” Blake exclaimed and Yang moved in tandem with the order, knowing her partner so well made working together and how to follow up on each-others attacks second nature by this point, sliding to the side of the completely defenceless thief, connecting with a perfectly timed strike to pinball him into the concrete wall to his side, sending out the cacophony of cracks as he hit it hard, spluttering in pain. His knees sagged but still mostly stayed upright. Yang gave Blake a small high-five celebrating their assumed victory, only for the thief to reach up to his now revealed apex and crack his neck, rolling it in response as he grunted out the pain like it was some constrained restlessness. He raised his head to show a man only slightly older than themselves with short shaggy blonde hair and grey Wolf-Faunas ears with small tufts of white fluff atop them. His gun-metal silver eyes appeared impressed, pushing himself off the wall and resuming his stance.

“Good move, guess I’m not dealing with the average pair of Huntresses. But, play time’s over.” He completely disappeared, his body disappearing in a puff of dark smoke.

“What?!” Yang shouted wildly, only to feel a pair of arms wrap around her stomach, she turned her head, peering out the corners of her eyes in alarm to see the Faunas behind her. 

“Surprise!” He quipped before bending over backwards and pulling Yang with him, slamming her down onto her shoulders and neck with such force Yang’s body numbed with pain, her body crumpling on the ground. She groaned in pain, testing her fingers and tentatively wriggling her toes to make sure all her extremities worked and the dulled feeling wasn’t due to a broken neck. She sighed in relief mixed with discomfort at the aching in her shoulders and neck.

“Did he just fucking suplex me…?” Yang groaned out, pushing herself up into a pain-addled kneel.

“Yang! He can teleport!” Blake warned and Yang responded with a lackadaisical thumb up in response. Blake brought both arms along her chest in a defensive position, only for the thief to flash forward, combining the instantaneous nature of his semblance with his natural blinding speed to land a knee-strike flush with Blake’s abdomen. Blake crumpled, doubling over at the unexpected rush of pain, and spat and spluttered out her agony, her saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

Blake looked up at him scornfully and he gave her a demeaning wave, she swiped in fury at him, only for the Wolf-Faunas to disappear in a puff of smoke once more, stood atop the building in above them in the alley.

“Sorry girls, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a delivery to make. Take care!” He turned from the edge and walked away, leaving Yang and Blake feeling resolutely defeated and pathetic.

“At the risk of sounding like Weiss, why the hell are all the Faunas we find running away from something guilty of stealing?” Yang responded, slowly getting to her feet and offering her partner her hand, which Blake graciously accepted. 

“Who the hell was that guy?” Blake said between shaky breaths, having been winded in the final exchange, and Yang shrugged.

“Think he was a member of the White Fang? We only routed Adam’s forces. Could have been a scout?” Yang theorised and Blake shook her head.

“No. We only operated at night for scouting missions, and were never so undisciplined to rob people in broad daylight.” Blake retorted. “We should go find the man he robbed from. Maybe he can tell us what he stole? He didn’t seem like a regular thief by any means.”

“And down the rabbit hole, we go…”

 

The wolf-Faunas staggered towards the apartment complex he begrudgingly called home. Tired from the combat he was forced into with the two huntresses and the overexertion of his semblance to traverse the rooftops of Vale. He cursed at the fact it was situated on the outskirts of the city, just within the walls of the Kingdom itself in the poorest stretches almost entirely forgotten by the Kingdom itself and the presumed riches and quality of life those within the suburbs tended to advertise. Happy, healthy, without a care in the world despite the rude awakening to how harsh and cruel reality truly is, ready to snap back at the hand ignorantly looking to play with it like some submissive pet. But the thief hardly cared, he was from Vaccuo, the problems Vale had with its socio-economic framework wasn’t a concern of his, he just wanted to finish the job he had set out upon.

He clambered up the rusted and worn staircase, the once white paint it should have been coloured was stained or entirely absent thanks to a variety of factors over the years, ascending towards the second level where rows of numbered doors awaited. He picked the second from the end, slipping the key into the door and unlocking it. He pushed it open with a grunt, hearing the door practically creep open like it was exposing some clichéd haunted house.

The apartment was small and scarcely decorated. Along the left wall was a sofa occupied by two people; one Faunas and one human. The human had his feet up on the coffee table in front of the tattered and stained furniture he lazed on, the female Fox-Faunas lying against him and observing what was on his laptop with curious intent. Along the left wall was an indentation leading into a kitchenette and small table ahead of it with four seats, only one of which was occupied by a girl in a blue infinity scarf that morphed into a hood, drawn upon her head. She looked over to the Faunas entering the apartment, disapprovingly shaking her head at his later-than-expected arrival, but mutely smiling once he gave her a wink and a daring smile, causing her to blush, before returning to staring into space directly ahead of her. It was odd how she seemed so fascinated with the space in front of her, or how dismissive of the world she was that her thoughts completely detracted any attention she would pay to it. 

The human on the couch, the same age as his recently returned accomplice, around 19 years of age, placed his laptop on the table and spread his hands out in front of him. The man had short blonde hair, spiky and styled towards the centre of his head in a small Mohican. He had a red bandanna tied around the back of his neck with variations of the Creatures of Grimm tailored all over it. Beyond that he had black jeans and a sleeveless jacket on white shirt. His eyes a bright gold.

“What took you so long?” he inquired, the Wolf Faunas sighing in vexation. 

“Huntresses.” He replied bluntly.

“They give you any problems?” The Fox Faunas queried.

“A couple of bruises. More of an unexpected inconvenience than anything.”

“Did you get it?” He asked ambiguously, expectant but guarded in case of failure. The wolf Faunas reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash-drive, grey with the emblem of the Kingdom of Vale’s military stamped on both sides. The Wolf-Faunas ushered him to calm down with a motion of his hand.

“Come on Linen, when have I ever failed? No matter the job I always get what we need. I’m the recon, I know how to rob a guy.” The Faunas said to the amused huff of the Fox-Faunas. “Something funny, Red?” he asked the dark-orange haired girl, the colour matching her Fox ears sans the black tinge at the apex of her ears. She had an overbite on the left side of her mouth, towards the centre. Long straight hair that shone brilliantly in the light, giving the downright abysmal living space some life. She wore a long-red Lolita dress and round-tipped four inch heels over white and black striped leggings. Her eyes were a brilliantly shade of emerald that matched her beauty and seductiveness, her glower playful and mischievous but if filled the Wolf with wariness. 

“Recon? You? You’re the muscle. Like you could ever keep your mouth shut for long enough to perform recon.” She leant into Linen, the man next to her, nuzzling his shoulder while he wrapped and arm around her, stroking her shoulder as she mockingly stared towards the Wolf-faunas.

“No, come on Red, you know how this works. Linen is the tech expert. The brains. You’re our information gatherer and mouthpiece,” 

“Reconnaissance, not information gathering. I just happen to seduce it out of people. Give me some credit.” She corrected smoothly, like it was second nature.

The wolf sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose “Fine, Linen is the brains, you’re the Recon and I’m the Leader. Viridian is the muscle.” He pointed to the girl, smiling into the distance as she stared at nothing in particular.

“Really? She does fuck all. No offence, Viri.” Linen said apologetically and the hooded girl turned around, wide-eyed, before smiling and waving the notion of offence off like it meant nothing.

“No need to apologise, Linen, I realise I do little for our operation.” The girl said unemotively, though a whisper of joy did trickle into her voice at being mentioned. Her outfit consisted of brown-laced up shin-high boots with black leather trousers, that helped accentuate her subtle curves, tucked into them. She had a white dress shirt with folded collars and silver-metal bracers adorning her forearms with depictions of trees and the rising sun. Around her neck under her scarf and hood was a silver pendant on a black necklace, the pendant in the shape of a shining star. Her face was mostly obscured by the dark shadow cast down her face, but bright green eyes shone through the darkness, and trails of black hair streaked with blonde tumbled down to her chest, which was a moderate size on her lithe and athletic figure.

“Regardless of how much Viridian does, we all know just how deadly she can be.” The wolf-faunas compromised and they all seemed content on the answer, though Viridian continued to mostly pay the conversation little mind as she quietly hummed to herself. The Wolf-faunas moved over to her, crouching beside her and holding her hand in his own, stroking the back of her hand and kissing her knuckles. “Are you okay?” he asked with a cheery disposition, slightly concerned but also doing so mostly out of convention.

“I was very worried about you, Silver. I don’t like it when you go out into the field alone. What happens if one day you don’t come back?” She asked, concern filtering into her monotone voice. “But I am okay now, because you are back.” She smiled, and he soothed her worries with another kiss to her hand.

“If I don’t come back, feel free to kill whomever it is that does me in.” A flash of happiness appeared and dissolved across her face as quickly as it appeared. Silver left a small but lingering kiss on Viridian’s lips before he stood back up and walked over to Linen while the hacker plugged the flash-drive into his computer, taking longer than Silver would have expected a computer expert to open a flash-drive. “How hard is it to open your file explorer? I thought you said this would be quick.”

“Oh for…” Linen stopped himself from swearing, biting down on his lip and burying his anger “Nobody respects the work of a tech-expert.” He sighed in exasperation.

“I do, my love.” Red leaned over and kissed his cheek, a smile momentarily appearing before he continued his work.

“Look, I’m decrypting incredibly well defended firewalls. You pulled the raw data from that guy’s home computer. It’ll take a while.” He explained through bated breath at finally getting into the files.

“Raw data?” Silver said, looking bemused.

“Yes. I didn’t expect you to decrypt the files yourself or steal his computer…”

“I could have done that.” Silver said defiantly, mostly out of jest which didn’t go unnoticed by Linen.

“Ha, sure. And I can bench-press a whole Ursa.” He shot back, earning a breathless chuckle from Silver. “Seriously though, these are important files. Naturally, I just needed a copy and that means I have to crack them open so if decoding them is all I have to do, count ourselves lucky. Kingdoms usually have some really heavy encryptions that most hackers could take years solving.” He smirked cockily “But they’re not me.” Silver shook his head in amusement. “Basically, we’re dealing with the language of computers, but some experts are so smart they make a language out of binary and other coding programs. A language in a language. Some have never been broken because they’re so complex, and Vale is no slouch with technology. It’s no Atlas, but it’s no Vaccuo either.”

“Can you give me the long and short of it? You’re the only one who understands this stuff, Linen.” Silver requested.

“I think it’s sexy, personally.” Red purring into Linen’s ear.

“Keep your skirt on, Red. I’d appreciate if you didn’t hump our only tech-expert when he’s on the job.” The Fox rolled her eyes and sat back, inspecting her finally attended nails.

“Anyway…” started the blushing Linen “Basically it’s simple to a genius like me. And…” he punched the air in triumph “I’m in! Ladies, gentlemen, we have the latest encoding and passwords, to all of the turrets and anti-Grimm protection the Kingdom of Vale has. And now, to completely rewrite it and place a little backdoor into the system, just in case…”

“Backdoor? Should I even ask?”

“Probably not.” Linen shrugged and realised the point was rhetorical “Sorry. Basically, you know how we work. Scepticism of our employers is how we have such a good track record. It’s a “Just in case” policy, if it turns out our employer wants to use the new coding of Vale’s defences to ransom the Kingdom or have it toppled, we have a way of shutting down their control and turning the defences on or off externally from the system. Depending on whichever is necessary to protect the Kingdom.”

“So basically, what we did to stop Cinder from hacking into the Atlesian dreadnaughts and those inhuman tin cans of theirs back at the Vytal festival?” Silver snarled at the prospect of both mentioning Atlas and their history of aiding them, the Wolf-Faunas had nothing but hatred for the Kingdom because of its poor Faunas rights record.

Linen shrugged his shoulders “A little different, we didn’t rewrite Atlesian data because we didn’t want to leave any digital fingerprints. All we did was block Cinder and her posse access so their attack on Beacon was diminished. Good guys win, bad guys lose. All around job well done there, we knew what we were facing. But now…”

“We’re stumbling in the dark, rewriting Vale’s defences for their own protection and handing someone from Mistral the trigger to completely leave Vale up the creak without a paddle.” Silver bit his lip apprehensively.

“Well done, you perfectly summarised the contradiction inherent with this job.” Linen rolled his eyes.

“I don’t trust her, Linen.” Silver growled lowly.

“None of us do. Hacking Atlesian military is one thing, especially when it’s to stop another hack. But completely rewriting a Kingdom’s defences? That never spells good news for anyone.”

“So why the fuck are we doing this?” Silver spat. “I had to fight off two Huntresses for this shit! Actual people who are here to help Remnant! And we’re placing them all in jeopardy!” Linen made a motion for Silver to settle down, the Wolf abiding the suggesting and took a few anger-ridden breaths to calm himself. 

“You know if what she told us is true, leaving those weapons unguarded and without us acting as insurance then the people of Vale will be slaughtered anyway. She’s the lesser of two evils and we have the backdoor that only we will know about and only I can access. We’ve taken all the precaution we can, Silver.” Silver wasn’t convinced by the words, but he trusted Linen as much as anyone. He was smart and loyal and they had known each-other their entire lives. He never made a misstep or miscalculated, unreliable in a fight, but that’s not where he excelled. The man had never lead Silver astray, and he had no reason not to trust him now.

“Are you nearly done?” Silver asked impatiently and Linen nodded, handing him back the flash-drive.

“Make the call. It’s all re-written in my own code. Nobody but me can crack it, the back door is the only risk, but nobody will find it. She can do with it what she wants, I just pray she doesn’t have to.”  
Silver uneasily brought up his scroll, opening up the newest contact that hadn’t been given a name, but yet had messages from both sides dating back months. All the way to just before the Vytal Festival, the first job they worked for her. Silver sent the message informing the contact the job had been completed and they could collect the flash-drive. He sighed, his brain telling him this was the worst possible thing he could do, that trusting the woman with such a dangerous and potent piece of information was an ignorant and foolish thing to do. She could depose of Vale in a heartbeat. She could completely override all control on Vale’s defences. But so far, she appeared to share the same goals his team had: Of protecting the world from Salem, and other malevolent forces. Silver didn’t feel right about it, he felt nauseous, but if it accomplished their goal then so be it. It was never like they played by the rules anyway.

The slash of a sword could be heard, and Silver tensed. He reluctantly opened his eyes to see the pulsating red portal, with a woman walking straight out of it. She wore a shallow cut black dress, five necklaces with an assortment of beads, a red girdle-belt, and a pair of matching gauntlets. An object that looked to be made from feathers hung from the right side of her skirt. She also wore detached black leggings with a red splatter pattern, and black leather boots beneath them. A harrowing Grimm mask masked her face, obscuring her features. It was unnerving, and even Viridian decided to take notice, watching her carefully, fists balled under the table she sat at. Silver wasn’t sure what the masks purpose was, and if it was anything beyond being designed to strike fear into the hearts of those around her then he didn’t want to be informed of it.

Thankfully, she drew the helmet off, showcasing her youthful and pale complexion, blood-red eyes and long black hair tinted with crimson streaks.

“The Mercenaries of Justice, how quaint. It’s been some time, wouldn’t you agree, Silver? Long overdue, in my opinion.” Her tone was charming and spirited, not unlike Red’s, but there was the implication of a threat in her voice. That she was not to be taken lightly. Far more ambiguity as to her true nature.

“Raven Branwen. I could go my whole life without seeing you and it would still be too soon.” Raven closed her eyes and her smile widened, seemingly entertained by the insult levelled at her. Silver was naturally sceptical, but ever since working with Raven he had become painfully aware of her morally grey nature. His band of mercenaries weren’t any better, but there was just something about Raven that irked him. Probably her willingness to take extreme steps for a supposedly benevolent goal, steps that Silver wouldn’t consider ethical or viable. 

“I’ll keep this short then. Do you have what I asked for? Is it ready to be used at a moment’s notice?” her voice fell flat, eyes glancing between Silver and Linen. Silver handed over the flash-drive, watching her intently.

“It is. Exactly how you asked.” Linen answered for Silver.

“What do you plan on doing with it, Raven?” Silver asked, as neutrally as he was capable of.

“If all goes to plan; Nothing. I don’t intend on using it. It’s a contingency measure. Last time I let Salem drop her forces into Vale the best we could do was minimise the damage. This time, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get the chance to even attack.” She seemed assured in her own answer, pocketing the device.

“Don’t you trust Vale to protect themselves?” Silver asked as he narrowed his eyes, more confused as to her motivations than mistrustful.

“Ironic, coming from the band of mercenaries who make it their job to go over the heads of Kingdoms to protect them, isn’t it?” that stung Silver, mostly because he couldn’t exactly argue that Raven was wrong or there was an important distinction to be made, the only difference being the broadness of how they operated. And now thanks to Raven, they were fundamentally the same. She brought out her excessively long katana from its holster filled with multi-coloured variants of the blade, no doubt stored for combative purposes and loaded with Dust. She slashed at the air, a pulsating portal being summoned. “You have nothing to fear of me, Team SLVR. It’s who I’m fighting against, that is. Salem. She is fear.”

And with that parting statement, she was gone. Her portal flickered into nothingness, a large stack of Lien awaiting them on the counter. A defeated sigh escaping Silver’s throat, he hoped Raven was like them. Searching for justice and helping the weak no matter what. 

But it was hardly a safe bet to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not fair to Yang, am I? She's 0 for 2 so far in fights. And we can see Weiss' influence in her fighting style, although it's subtle. Analysing her opponent before relentlessly attacking, and she's trying to keep herself in check when fighting.
> 
> So we finally get to see a little of Raven. Basically her motivation for wanting access to Vale's defences can be attributed to what Qrow said in chapter 3. She's tired of Ozpin's methods of sitting still and doesn't trust him with the protection of Vale. So yeah, Raven and team SLVR essentially are the reason nothing bad happened to Beacon beyond some broken buildings. But are they overextending themselves? Only time will tell.
> 
> Finally just a little on team SLVR: They're a band of mercenaries and childhood friends. Being born in Vaccuo and its lawlessness was essentially all the motivation they needed to be what I describe as "Altruistic Sell-swords" kinda like the 6-4 from Titanfall 2. They only take jobs based off a code of honour and ethics, but they certainly aren't as respectable as Huntsmen.


	6. Chill out, Let’s Take a Step Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss and Ruby wonder where Blake and Yang have been all day, and some admissions are made.

Weiss paced back and forth across the floor of their dorm room, arms folded over her chest, gripping so tightly onto her sleeves that her knuckles were ghostly white. She practically imprinted upon the ground from the trail she was leaving as she nervously marched between the two bunkbeds as Ruby cautiously watched her, fiddling with her own hands as she allowed Weiss to express her own fears and frustrations before making any attempt to interject and alleviate the Heiress’ worries. She knew better by this point than to interrupt the girl as she quietly rambled, stopping only to move her hands to her hips as she stared blankly into space, lost in her own assumptions and thoughts before running her hands through her hair and seething in nervous rage over the absence of Blake and Yang.

Initially Weiss had just been anxious, concluding that Yang and Blake were simply having such a good time that informing Ruby or Weiss about their lateness had simply slipped their minds. She resolved to reprimand them both for such foolish forgetfulness and making both Ruby and her worry so needlessly, but the early afternoon soon turned to evening and that concern Weiss was gently nurturing soon morphed into anger. How dare Yang not inform her of her wellbeing? They were lovers, they were dating, she deserved even the smallest of insights into how Yang was choosing to spend her time out of principle. Yang was freedom and anarchy incarnate, Weiss never had the intention of shackling her or changing her, that inexorable and daring thrill-seeking nature that dominated Yang Xiao Long’s decision making was one of the things Weiss loved most about her girlfriend. It inspired her to be more intrepid, to forge her own path in life with less concern for other people’s sensibilities.  
Regardless she deserved at the very least a simple text message. She was what many would describe as a shopaholic, someone who could spend hours just looking inside different clothing sections and appreciating and critiquing the various designs like they were a work of art before she even considered buying, but this was becoming asinine to her. Yang liked things done quick and with little complexity. She couldn’t imagine Yang running around all day without unlocking her scroll and being reminded by her background image of one of the first pictures they took as a couple together. 

It was just after their doubles match at the Vytal tournament where they had beaten Flynt Coal and Neon Katt, after Weiss had managed to clean herself of all the soot she had been caked into after sacrificing herself to (futilely) eliminate Flynt. Yang had found them a quiet spot in the middle of the Festival, pulled Weiss flush against her with an arm around Weiss’ waist and taken a selfie of the two of them, with Weiss’ flushed and looking embarrassed by the nature at which Yang was so readily touching her in public. Not that she had minded it, Yang’s warm and secure grasp made her feel safer than all of the security that regularly patrolled the Schnee manner. Yang, with her arm around Weiss had the camera held above them with her arm extended, she winked with a wide toothy grin, her hand tightly grasping Weiss dress as to emphasise the very intimate nature in which they were bound together. She hadn’t noticed until now the way in which her fingers were hooked onto the inside of Yang’s arms, keeping her securely attached to the blonde, with her petite chest pressed against Yang’s bicep; like she was attempting to seduce the blonde. 

Fortunately, it seemed to have had the desired effect, as Yang was so impressed and touched by Weiss’ act of self-sacrifice that she wanted to reward Weiss by making love for the first time. Naturally, Weiss was hesitant about so readily throwing herself into the foray of the sexual act. There were so many unknowns, but in juxtaposition with her aggressive brawling, Yang had been a gentle and tender lover. Her kisses were reassuring, and she repeatedly made sure Weiss felt okay and was ready to shut up shop and stop at a moment’s notice if Weiss was scared or didn’t like what was happening. It reminded her just how much the blonde really did care about Weiss. Yang Xiao Long, for some reason, had seen past the conceited and cold exterior of Weiss, and was willing to do anything for her. Yang had even sent Weiss the photo for her to enjoy, and in one of Yang’s more cheesy and cute moments she had suggested they both make the picture their background displays to remind them of the day they announced to the world of remnant they were the damn best duo in that tournament. To remind them they were together, and they loved each-other. To remind them that their intimacy only belonged to them and how much they cherished it. 

Weiss blushed at the memory and couldn’t prevent the smile breaking out across her face as she clutched her scroll to her chest and hummed pleasantly at the corresponding memory.  
But that didn’t stop the quiet storm of anger and dread inside of her from dominating her thoughts, even more so after the recollection of the sweet memories she had shared alongside Yang. In fact, it made it worse. What if something had happened to Yang? Or Blake? Or the both of them. She could understand Yang missing her calls and texts, maybe. But Blake was another story. 

The Faunas was diligent and considerate even if her usually deadpan and monotone expression and voice, respectively, failed to properly express it. That fear spreading inside her was agonising, and it was clearly written on her face. It was already 8PM, and the curfew would soon come into effect within the hour. Ruby and Weiss had neglected informing the faculty out of trust in Yang and Blake but what would happen if they had failed to turn up by the morning? Weiss’ hair was going to start falling out at this rate.

“Weiss,” Ruby said in all but a whisper, she sounded tranquil and mediated, like she was trying to gain Weiss’ attention without offending her, which with the way her nerves were shot and her worked up nature it was probably the wise thing to do. Ruby patted the bedding of Blake’s bunk that was unoccupied next to her. Weiss sighed, those pleading puppy-dog eyes of Ruby couldn’t be resisted. Weiss considered that they were a more dangerous power than Ruby’s own semblance. She humoured the thought that those eyes could probably pacify or slay Grimm, and despite the mirth she found in the thought she quickly brushed it away, it was silly. 

Weiss sat right next to Ruby, shoulder to shoulder, as the brunette took Weiss in her arms and held her tightly, Weiss moving her head to rest on Ruby’s shoulder as the younger girl gently rocked from side to side. The younger girl wasn’t as strong as Yang, so her embraces weren’t as constricting and lacked the feeling of security provided in those arms, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. Yang may have been Weiss’ first love, but Ruby was definitely her best friend. Someone she could indisputably rely on no matter what, and they had even grown a little closer since Weiss had started dating her sister. They almost felt like sister’s themselves, that already strong foundation of being partners and friends and the trust that naturally came with it seemed to be reinforced. Of course, Weiss would never tell this to Ruby’s face, as she imagined the younger girl would be so enamoured and jubilant that she would probably hang a giant banner above their dorm room saying “RUBY ROSE + WEISS SCHNEE = BFFs FOR LIFE” and that prospect seemed both more difficult to approach and explain with her Father than dating Yang.

“Don’t worry about it, they’re partners and Huntresses. Blake and Yang are gonna be totally fine!” Ruby said far more optimistically than should have been possible. “I bet they’re just running late.”

“By five hours?” Weiss scrutinised.

“…Running really late?” Weiss chuckled dryly at Ruby’s alternate attempt at solving why their teammates were so late that from the look on her face she even had trouble believing it, saying more for Weiss’ sake.

Weiss didn’t immediately respond, allowing for silence to sit between them before taking a shaky breath “What if something bad happened to them, Ruby?” Weiss asked, her voice cracking from the fear. It was slightly irrational, she knew that, but after the Attack on Beacon the reality showed the world that even one of the most secure Kingdoms in Remnant was vulnerable to attack. To harm. Blake and Yang were capable, but not invincible. She lacked the information to make an informed judgement on their wellbeing’s and that is what was worrying her so. A whole day of worrying had put her on edge and now she was tumbling down. 

“Shhh,” Ruby cooed caringly, stroking down Weiss’ back. “Have some faith, Weiss. If something bad did happen, we’d have known about it already. Yang wouldn’t go down without making a lot of noise.” That was true, or so Weiss thought anyway, in the worst-case scenario the first ever Patch-born medallist in the Vytal tournament that was Yang Xiao Long would have alerted the Kingdom of Vale in the process of a life-threating battle. 

Weiss attempted to supress a small chuckle at the thought of Yang’s all to obvious bad-natured quips when in a fight. She couldn’t stop worrying however, and she couldn’t understand how Ruby was so calm. And that is when she realised how selfish she was being, she was the one being held and told to calm down. She was having a younger girl in the form of Ruby practically pacify her worries. She was probably also worried by the omission of their teammates from their dorm room. Ruby may have had faith in Yang to look after herself, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t fretting internally.

“Ruby I’m…sorry.” The two separated at arm’s length, Ruby still holding onto her partner’s shoulders but looking far more perturbed by Weiss’ comment than the continued absence of Blake and Yang.

“Are you okay? You apologising is becoming a habit I’m not used to.” Ruby giggled, before nudging Weiss with her elbow, a cheeky grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. At any other time, Weiss, would probably be angry at being labelled so unrepentant but in this moment, she was just happy to be given a partner who could offer the smallest of reprieves from her emotional instability in the form of a joke.

“Oh ha-ha, Ruby Rose.” She wiped at the corner of her eyes with the back of her hand, drying them of the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I was going to say I’m being preposterous with how I’m acting. I shouldn’t be all worked up so easily…” Weiss chastised herself. 

“Weiss, it’s totally fine. I get it.” Ruby placed a hand on Weiss’ shoulder, squeezing it supportively. “I know why you’re feeling the way you feel. You’re in love, with Yang. Intense emotions have a tendency to manifest in good and bad ways. When she’s around, you’re happy. When she’s not, you’re sad. You’re just worked up with Yang not being around so much.” It was incredible, almost awe-inspiring how quickly Ruby’s character could shift between the childish girl who couldn’t focus on a simple history class to the all-encompassing leader and child-prodigy Huntress who could provide a wise answer or explanation to the most difficult concepts that Weiss had never even considered.

“How do you know so much about this?” Weiss asked sceptically like she didn’t truly believe this was Ruby speaking. If nothing else learning of how her partner was so well-versed in the feelings of elation and turmoil that encompass love would be interesting to discuss. What Weiss didn’t expect was a sheepish grin and chuckle from Ruby, as she averted her gaze.

“Well, the thing is, I’m kinda in the same boat as you, Weiss.” Weiss tilted her head, she believed she had a fairly accurate grasp on what Ruby meant but didn’t want to make a leap of faith without confirmation first. Ruby just shrugged “I’m in love with someone too.” Ruby scratched at her flush-laden cheeks, trying to act unnaturally cool and casual with the admittance.

“Who?” Weiss asked excitedly, she had always heard from what media she consumed that it was a common practice between female friends to discuss their loves interests openly. She had always been envious of those with a wide circle of friends who could participate in such a stereotypical activity as she had been home-schooled most of her life and never really gotten a chance to befriend many girls her own age, especially not those interested in dating at the time. 

“Weiss…” Ruby whined, clearly not interested in continuing the conversation.

“Can I guess? Is it someone I know?” Weiss had all but forgotten her worries over Blake and Yang, childishly bouncing on the bed she was sat on. Ruby was a little thankful for that, Weiss being upset and stressed was heart breaking to see, and this version of Weiss was far cuter. But it was a topic she really didn’t feel like broaching at the current time. She was confused at her own feelings towards the person she was in love with. Love may actually have been too strong, but it also seemed appropriate. That was one of the confusing aspects to it; she couldn’t figure out the degree or intensity of her feelings without it feeling too overwhelming and exaggerative or miniscule and insulting. 

“I guess so…” Ruby knew, and partially regretted, that the moment she had told Weiss she was in love with someone that she would have to face a bombardment of questions at some point. Weiss was a huge fan of romance, usually the fictional kind, which made the real-life version even more attractive and interesting to her.

“Is it Jaune?” Ruby winced at Weiss’ first guess. She understood why Weiss might think that, out of all of team JNPR it was Ruby and Jaune that shared the best inter-team relationship. Other than perhaps Blake and Ren, but that was more of an appreciation they were both stoic and preferred quiet. Ruby just shook her head though, Jaune simply wasn’t her type. He was sweet, but a little unassuming for her taste. “Oh! Nora! That would be some real Flower Power!” Weiss winked and Ruby rolled her eyes.

“Yang is a horrible influence on your sense of humour.” Ruby chuckled meekly. “No, by the way.” Again, Nora was attractive but perhaps just too overwhelming. As a matter of fact, no, there was no question about it. Nora was certainly too overwhelming. She could only be handled in small doses. It would take a master of patience and willpower to deal with her in a romantic and personal setting ‘Good luck with that, Ren’ she thought to herself, feeling sympathetic for the Mistralli but not envious.

“Anyone on Team JNPR then?” Ruby shook her head once more. “Ah, I see. It makes sense, I suppose. Your head’s been turned by another team! Oh, how exciting, a romance from afar!” Weiss exclaimed exaggeratively, clearly revelling in their conversation.

“By that logic “afar” is about 100 metres away at most given the dorm buildings distance from each-other…” Ruby rolled her eyes, huffing. She enjoyed talking to Weiss, she was her friend after all, but this was a difficult topic for her. “They…aren’t from another team, Weiss.”

Weiss covered her mouth in shock, realising finally what Ruby meant “You mean…Blake?” Ruby finally gave the nod she was hoping for, but the grim delivery made it far less satisfying than she had been hoping for. “S-Since when?” Weiss opted for a more delicate approach after seeing the warring emotions on Ruby’s face. Her blush coating her cheeks at the thought of the faunas and embarrassment of being found out mixed with the confusion of how she felt. There was also a palpable level of regret etched on her face and…even a little anger.

Ruby shrugged, though it looked far more automated than usual, like she was lacking motivation “Whenever you and Yang wanted privacy Blake would always take me somewhere nice. Like, to buy cookies, or a movie, or to a café. Every time we went it felt like a date, and the more we went out together the more I got to learn a little about Blake. The things she liked, little things she does unconsciously like how her Faunas ears will twitch when she’s scared or how she’ll brush her hair past her cheek when she’s nervous.” Ruby rambled a little, but stopped, taking a breath and made sure to stick to the point “I realised the little things Blake usually hides because she’s afraid of even the slightest judgement made me really, really fall hard for her. She’s so cute without noticing it, and so beautiful without trying.” Weiss nodded, it was true that Blake put very little effort into her beauty. It was all natural and it did frustrate Weiss given how much effort she took, but it was also impressive. “But every time we went out I kept telling myself that we could never be an actual couple. Just two friends. I couldn’t jeopardise team RWBY by giving preferential treatment to one teammate. And, Blake has all her past issues with Adam and the White Fang…I doubt she wants to date some stupid girl from Patch whilst they’re still running about giving Faunas a bad name…” Ruby took one more insecurely burdened breath, her own tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, and spoke “Plush she’s too beautiful for me. I-I-I don’t deserve someone so humble and generous and kind and selfless…”

“Ruby Rose, if you say one more passively-aggressive comment about how you are not both deserving and suited for Blake Belladonna, I will never forgive you. And I will not let you be my Maid of Honour if I and Yang should ever get married.” Weiss said sternly, eyes hard as ice as they bore into her. Ruby was left practically speechless; her self-pity being replaced with shock at the nature of Weiss’ rebuttal.

“W-What?!” Ruby exclaimed.

“In need of examples? Very well.” Weiss looked away, in the midst of thought as she began raising her fingers as she listed off her points “Let us see, you are the kindest most unrelentingly endearing individual I have ever both had the pleasure and displeasure of meeting. You are passionately devoted to what you love, you are an expert at testing patience’s the world over but you are also incredibly thoughtful and helpful. You’re wise beyond your years and you are also very cute.” 

“O-Okay! Enough! Enough! I’ll seriously die of embarrassment if you continue!” Ruby was as red as her cape by this point, practically melding into it. 

“See? That right there is adorable.” Weiss teased and Ruby groaned, falling back onto Blake’s bed just below her pillow where the soft scent of apples from Blake’s conditioner still lingered. Ruby couldn’t help but appreciate the subtle odour of Blake, sighing at the mere thought of the girl. It really was hopeless. “Ruby,” Weiss called her name softly, earning the quietest hum from the prone girl in response “You won’t ruin this team by at least telling Blake how you feel. It’ll just hurt you more in the long run if you do nothing about it. And that will be what damages this team more than anything.” Weiss’ words made sense. How long had it been since Ruby realised she liked Blake? Two months? Three months? It had been a long time of perpetually beating herself over the head that she didn’t deserve the Faunas and that even if she did she owed it to her team not to even humour the thought of asking her out. It would be less painful in the long run to get an answer, mostly likely a refusal, and then move on with her life.

“I wanna pet those kitty ears so bad…” Ruby pouted, before sitting up to see Weiss biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. “What? You gotta admit, they’re darn cute and look so soft to touch.” Weiss laughed, hard, almost falling off the bed.

“Y-Yes, yes they are!” Weiss said in the midst of her mirth.

“Then why are you laughing?!” Ruby puffed her cheeks out as Weiss attempted to recompose herself.

“Because you have such a random train of thought! One minute you’re so depressed I’m worried we’ve lost the Ruby Rose who would zip around without a care in the world, breaking speed limits for a bag of cookies, and the next you’re this weirdo lusting after a set of cat ears!” Weiss fell back onto the bed, kicking her legs back and forth at how hilarious she found Ruby’s emotional metamorphosis.

Ruby pouted again, folding her arms over her chest “I liked it more when you nagged me instead of finding humour in my quirks…” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you love me.” Weiss said after having sat up and brushed away the tears from how hard she had laughed. “Besides,” she chuckled “I can still nag, and I don’t plan on stopping.”

“You’re a jerk.” Ruby grinned, and gave Weiss a playful punch to the arm. Weiss then took on a more serious air, looking at Ruby right in the eye.

“Seriously though Ruby, are you going to tell Blake?” Ruby looked away, nervously. “You know she’ll figure it out eventually, if she hasn’t already. She’s incredibly perceptive, and you’re not subtle.”

Ruby absent-mindedly scuffed the floor with her boots “Yeah. I know, I just…” she huffed in frustration “What do I say?” Weiss gave a little smile to the younger girl, happy to be relied on for once, something her Father never gave her the chance to be. He had merely had expectations. There was an important distinction there for Weiss.

“Just tell her the truth. You can’t go wrong.” Ruby looked up, eyes pleading for it to be true, the kindling of hope igniting into a fully-fledged fire. “You know after everything Blake has been through she just wants honesty. And nobody is more honest than you, Ruby Rose.”

Suddenly the door handle clicked, and the entrance to the door room creaked open slowly. After it had opened, a very exhausted Yang and Blake stood in the doorway, with Yang particularly almost dragging her knuckled on the ground from how lethargic she was. Blake didn’t look much better from the bags under her eyes, but she was least maintaining proper posture. 

“Yang! Blake!” Weiss said as she rushed over, encircling the blonde in as tight a hug as she could manage. Yang went to hug her back, but her arms weren’t nearly as tight or constricting. They felt much more limp than usual. “Where have you been?!” She asked, a mix of relief and annoyance knowing that nothing bad had happened to them but also ticked off at the notion they had given her no warning during their escapades. She pulled back slightly to look up at Yang, who looked equally as tired as Blake, but her eyes were more…devoid. Lifeless. There was also a small bandage masking a bruise on the bridge of Yang’s nose with dried blood around the rim of her nostrils. Weiss naturally wanted to ascertain the cause of the injury and the reason behind that chilling look within Yang’s eyes. She had never seen her girlfriend seem so empty and listless. However, it seemed as though she wanted nothing to do with it, shambling past Weiss before falling onto the Heiress’ bed face first, nuzzling the sheets with a tired and exasperated sigh. Weiss noticed Yang had a purple bag in her hand that looked as if it contained an item of noticeable weight. Her hand hung off the edge of the bed, clutching tight to it, the only example she was imploring the impressive strength within her body to work. 

“We chased after a Faunas who robbed a man. He got away though. By the time we got back the police arrived and the man refused to give us any information about what was stolen, kept saying it was confidential. Since we were the only ones who got a look at him we had to describe him to a sketch artist. Then we had to give a bunch of interviews. It took hours. And then…” Blake began listing off the day’s events, too tired to be overly descriptive or care for her teammates ability to follow them.

“And then we stopped off at a bookstore like we had planned…” Yang spoke, her voice muffled by the bed it was buried in, and she held up the bag, shaking it slightly for emphasis. Weiss smoothed her skirt and sat by Yang on the bed, running her hand through her hair and massaging Yang’s scalp, being rewarded with Yang’s hum of pleasure.

“Yang…what happened to your nose?” Weiss asked, worriedly.

“I nose right? I nose you so well that I could tell you’d ask.” 

“Yang.” Weiss said tersely, having no patience for her lover’s puns.

“Hey, I’m exhausted, give me a break.” Yang argued, and although she couldn’t see Weiss’ scowl and frustrated stare, she could feel it burning through the back of her skull “The thief elbowed me in the face, broke my nose. Aura did a good job, just a little bruising…” Yang explained and although she didn’t enjoy the sound of Yang being blooded or broken, she was relieved it wasn’t serious. Yang rolled onto her side, eyes still practically lifeless, but her lip curled into a minute smile, holding the bag up to Weiss’ face. “For you. Hope you like it.”

Weiss regarded it with suspicion, doing a double take between it and Yang. Finally, she took the bag in hand and looked within, pulling out a book coloured maroon with a velvet cover that was smooth to touch. It had immaculate gold stitching weaving through the margins around the border, and a smooth silk ribbon to be used as a bookmark. Finally, the title was styled in carefully woven stitching that spelled out “Songs of Remnant: Volume 1, tales and Ballads” Weiss was confused. Happy, but confused. She looked back down to Yang for an explanation as she clutched the heavy book tightly to her chest, already feeling a sense of ownership and possessiveness to the gift.

“You like to sing, I know it’s not exactly conventional but…” Yang reached up, stroking Weiss’ cheek and tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear “I want you to have more to sing, for fun. And because I love your voice.” Ruby squealed in excitement, giving her sister a not at all subtle thumb up and Blake nodded with satisfaction, having been complicit with the acquisition of the gift.

“Yang, I…you don’t…you don’t know how much this means to me…” Weiss felt a little shaken, as proven by her faltering and unsteady hands. Not for the first time that evening, tears stung behind her eyes but now they spilled over unreservedly. Streaming down her cheeks with sobs following them. Yang finally seemed to have life restored to her eyes, sitting up on her knees and looking distraught at the rate of which Weiss had broken down into crying.

“W-Weiss? Did I do something wrong? I-I’m sorry if I did…” Yang reached out and Weiss simply shook her head.

“N-No! You dolt! Listen! B-Birthdays were seen as just another day, my family never cared to celebrate them…or any other holiday, time is money and Father wouldn’t waste a day…not even for his daughter…” Weiss continued to sob, but despite her sobs she managed a wide smile “This is the first gift anyone has ever given me with heartfelt affection…” she took a few more unsteady breaths, clutching the book tighter and tighter. “Thank you…thank you so much…” She bent down and gave Yang a long kiss, lips locked together until when they eventually broke apart with a string of saliva hung between them with both of them panting. “I love you, Yang…”

“I love you too, Weissicle.” Yang teased, pulling the both of them together with her chin rested upon Weiss’ shoulder. She leaned in to Weiss’ ear, her breath heavy and laboured. “Weiss, I need to tell you something very important.” 

Weiss nodded, flushed, and waited for what was no doubt another admission from Yang about her affections and love for Weiss. She was excited, mixed with nervousness. Love was a strong emotion to have placed on something, and despite her appreciation and enjoyment she had for it, it was still an embarrassing and difficult thing to hear.

“I met my Mom today…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the fighting, exposition, character introductions and plotting of the last chapter I felt it was needed for some nice fluffy good times for Team RWBY, even with Ruby's light display of angst. 
> 
> Also felt good to get Ruby's feelings out in the open for Blake, even if they will have to wait for anything to happen.
> 
> Yang's a sweetie, she's such a romantic, even after a tiring day that completely drained her that included a broken nose she still wanted to give Weiss a romantic gesture.
> 
> And the cliff-hanger about Yang's Mother. Muahahahaha. I'm sorry, haha.


	7. The Phoenix and the Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion of a Mother and a daughter.

**_2 hours prior to Team RWBY’s reunion…_ **

 

“That was unbearable. Stupid bureaucracy…” Yang complained as she and Blake walked down the commercial streets of Vale once more, the sun slowly setting behind them and tinted the soft and bright coloured buildings of the city a dark and deep mix or oranges and reds. Yang rolled both of her shoulders, trying to work out the pent-up stress that she had worked up through sheer frustration at how long the local authorities had taken questioning both her and Blake. Combined with the absolute uselessness of the scientist who had refused to spill even the slightest piece of information about what had been stolen, making it impossible for any Huntsmen, police officer or Private investigator from keeping an eye open for this supposedly valuable and classified item had chagrined Yang to no ends. It was one big wild goose chase with absolutely no pay off. As a huntress, Yang had expected to be able to help people with their issues without having to worry about paperwork or interviews or any of the bureaucratic red tape that reduced the rate of anything getting solved to that of a crawl. Sometimes and investigation was needed as a Huntress, she knew that, not everything was an epic action-packed brawl with over the top choreography which even the most stoic individual would be left flabbergasted over. But this made Yang completely reconsider being altruistic ever again. It had been a very draining and demotivating experience.

“You’re only saying that because the Chief of Police was a bear Faunas.” Blake responded tiredly, rubbing at her eyes and yawning. Even Blake had been worn out by the events, or lack thereof. Yang loved the girl, she was her best friend and most trusted confidant, but Blake had some pretty boring hobbies that the energetic blonde wouldn’t be caught dead doing (probably because she would die of boredom in the process of attempting them) and so she had naturally helping out the process of police work would have been right up the raven-haired girl’s alley. Alas, even Blake was exhausted and Yang kept a little closer to her just in case her body decided enough was enough and collapsed right there.

“It bears reminding, is all.” Yang quipped with a wink and Blake just groaned, staring at Yang disapprovingly while her partner just kept grinning widely, eventually earning the cheapest of chuckles from Blake. 

“Come on, Ruby and Weiss are probably really worried about us. Let’s head home.” Blake suggested, her personality taking a positive turn from Yang’s jovial nature. One couldn’t stay too down or unenthusiastic for long around Yang, her bright and uncomplex but effective sense of humour was just too infectious.

Yang’s feet came to a sudden halt, almost screeching and kicking up dust behind her at the suddenness of her deacceleration which was confusing for a number of cartoonish reasons, the most prevalent being they had only been walking on a concrete pathway and she wasn’t a race car. Yang’s hands shot up to her head and buried into her golden locks, fear and apprehension plastered across her face.

“Oh crap!” she exclaimed “I didn’t get a chance to text or call either one of them! Weiss is gonna kill me!” Yang groaned before sagging down to her knees, arms limp and her head bowed. “I couldn’t even get her that present I wanted to surprise her with…” Yang was disappointed, for obvious reasons, she was more upset at the prospect of not being able to see Weiss’ face light up and make her happy than Weiss being angry at her. But somehow, she had failed in the simplest of tasks and wouldn’t be able to show Weiss just how thoughtful and considerate a girlfriend she could be. Sure, she could probably placate Weiss with the knowledge of what she had attempted to do, but it would pale in comparison to actually achieving it.

“You mean the book, right?” Blake asked, crouching down to Yang’s now low elevation.

“That’s the one.” Yang confirmed, her voice empty and dejected. Blake reached out and patted her partner’s shoulder, she felt bad for Yang especially after the awful day they had suffered through despite the intention for it to be an enjoyable outing and had promised so much for them to experience and relish in. Although she had to admit it was very inspiring and impressive how dedicated Yang was to Weiss as well as how disenchanted she could be over something so simple.

“I’m sure she’ll be understanding if we explain what happened.” Yang nodded slowly, with just a sigh accompanying it instead of a vocal response. Blake’s attempt at a smile quirked downwards. She had to try something to relieve Yang of her angst. Or ‘Yangst’. She immediately chastised herself internally for that joke before refocusing herself. “Hey, if we come across a bookstore we’ll see if we can get the present. Then at least you can surprise Weiss and make up for today.” Yang’s head finally looked up to Blake, big lavender eyes looking pleading and irresistible, not unlike her sister’s. 

“Really, Blakey?” it was evident at this point that Yang was attempting, and succeeding, to act as childishly charming and adorable as possible. To what ends, Blake wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was just a weak and vulnerable state Yang devolved to when she was really upset. That would make sense as Blake had seen it once or twice before and only when it had been only the two of them. She pondered if Weiss had ever seen it, but quashed the thought when it ventured to regions she wasn’t comfortable thinking about. It could also have been to draw confirmation out of Blake and make sure it wasn’t just to conciliate or patronise Yang, which of course it wasn’t. Blake would never be dishonest to Yang. She could never be dishonest to her after the way her partner had reacted to her being a Faunas. A shrug, a “huh, well that’s cool” and then a bright smile followed by her usual disposition that simply didn’t seem to consider it a big deal. To Blake, it really meant a lot that Yang didn’t care about somebody being a Faunas, it meant she didn’t judge.

“Of course, Yang. I’ll even buy it for you. Now come on…” Blake offered her hand to Yang and pulled her up to her feet. It wasn’t the easiest task. Yang was a combination of muscle as well as being well endowed, which resulted in a healthily heavy 17-year-old Huntress-in-training. Blake looked around, cupping her chin in thought as she tried to ascertain from their current location which bookstore was closest to them. Shockingly to none, Blake was well versed in the locations of essentially every bookstore or library in Vale due to her being a connoisseur or the literary arts. The problem being it was late, and her personal selection of the highest quality stores were all a long walk from their current location. They’d either arrive too late and the store would already be closed or they would be out beyond the curfew and get in trouble more so than they’d probably already be with Weiss. Blake was then broken out of the depths of thought by the sounds of Yang’s voice.

“Blake? Blake! Yo! Remnant to Belladonna!” Yang said, getting increasingly frustrated with Blake’s absent-mindedness. 

“Huh?” Blake said, finally focusing on the blonde stood with her hands on her hips. Lips pouted at being ignored.

“Cat got your tongue or something? We’re literally losing daylight here.” Yang pointed behind herself with her thumb at the setting sun.

“Was that another Faunas-based pun?” Blake asked, an eyebrow raised and Yang looked mildly shocked by the accusation. 

“Huh…guess it was. Nice! Stealth pun!” Yang giggled and Blake shook her head with a smile. The simplest of things could make Yang happy, and knowing that made Blake glad. “So, any ideas on a store?”

Blake rubbed the back of neck nervously “Umm…well, yeah, there is this new place not too far from here. But I have no idea about their selection. Then again we are looking for a genre I know little about anyway…” It was a long shot, and probably wouldn’t result in any valuable pay-off but she had promised Yang. Not to mention that it gave Blake an excuse to check out a new store and possibly pick out some new reading material. 

“Show me the way, kitty cat!” Yang said bouncily, and awful nickname aside (that Blake was finding it harder and harder to not smirk at) she started navigating the two of them to the destination Blake had in mind.

 

Blake and Yang stood outside a one story high fully-attached building labelled as “One Story Stories”. Yang had her arms wrapped around her gut as she laughed passionately at the terrible attempt at a joke, tears spilling out from her eyes at how flagrantly comical she found it.

“No way! No way! Blake! It’s perfect! I have to take a picture!” Yang fumbled around for her scroll, unable to properly grasp it from the absence of bodily control as a result of her laughter. Blake simply squeezed her temples, shutting her eyes to try and block out the world and fabricate some illusion where the world wasn’t so perfectly set up for her to make a hobby of awful jokes into what could only be described as a professional sport at this point. Unfortunately, as she realised with a desperate sigh, life wasn’t willing to give her such an easy existence. 

Instead, the faunas opted to attempt to appreciation and analyse the architecture of the building and the presentation of the establishment. The old saying may be “Don’t judge a book by its cover” but it couldn’t hurt to at least critique the aesthetics and design of the store. It was a surprising mix of traditional wooden design with that of modern aspects purely for the sake of efficiency, safety and practicality such as electronic doors with a wheelchair-accessible ramp leading up to it and a button to automatically open it. Additionally, the windows followed this hybridisation as they were double-glazed to keep the store insulated during the colder months. 

They were also sleek and didn’t obscure the books positioned at the front of the store just behind them so Blake could quickly appreciate and ascertain the variety of selection they had and the preference of the owner, as they would place their own favourites usually to give it a personal touch. The owner of this particular store had a selection of heroic tales, tragic romances and stories on the disassociation of certain family members and the effects it had on the family unit. Blake quirked her eyebrow, puzzled by such a radical variation of preferences but no less intrigued.

“Are you done yet?” Blake looked back as Yang was nodding, a wide grin on her face and held back her laughter in the back of her throat and the occasional snort. “All-right then. Let’s hope they have something Weiss will like.” Blake said as she opened the door, a small bell ringing from atop the door to indicate to however was working new customers had arrived.

“’One Story Stories’…who comes up with this stuff?” Yang giggled quietly as she pocketed her scroll and Blake merely rolled her eyes to herself.

The inside of the store was certainly a marvel to behold. At the front of the store leading towards the wooden counter at the back where the till was located for transactions was four columns of shelves all stacked to the brim with various different genres of books all labelled by a little sign stood at the very top of the shelves. The air was heavy with the scent of books, new and old, overpowering with the rich aroma that flooded into Blake’s nostrils. It was a welcome and familiar feeling.

The walls on the sides of the store were slightly different, with both walls indented for space so that a shelf was pushed perfectly into the space and ran the entire length of the room whilst similarly packed full of literature. Blake felt like she was in heaven, there was such a wide diversity of books ranging from adventure epics, romance, diaries of famous Huntsmen (she made a mental note to come here again ahead of Ruby’s birthday to get her one) and even some rare scrolls and ancient version of literature from Mistral! Those were very expensive and scarce, only a few copies still in good enough condition to read. Blake thought that whoever owned the store must have been very well travelled or had very good connections. In either case, they were an incredibly diligent collector and connoisseur of the written prose. 

“Just one moment! I’ll be with you right away!” A feminine voice called from within the hall behind the counter, the door leading to it wide open. Blake and Yang shrugged.

“Guess they’ve got good customer service. Might be able to help find what you’re looking for.” Blake smiled as she browsed the nearest column of bookshelves, running her finger down the spines as she read the titles. A few stuck out to her, even a few from authors she had the pleasure of reading from before. This place was definitely a good find for her even if they failed to secure Weiss a present, though she did hope they succeeded in their quest.

“Awesome! You have such good taste, Blake! Unless it’s on food. Yuck.” 

“Tuna is very delicious, I’ll have you know.” Blake glared back at her partner, who just rolled her eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that, Blakey.” Yang giggled and went over to one of the wall-spanning shelves, leaning in and scrutinising the titles of every book she could see as quickly as possible, more out of fascination than anything. She could wait until the employee on duty came and could divulge whether or not they had what Yang was in search of. It made more sense than running about searching for something she didn’t have a solid foundation about, she had only assumed books about songs and orchestral ballads even existed.

She heard the quiet patter of footsteps on the wooden floorboards arriving from behind her. They were too heavy to be Blake’s it was creepy how quiet that girl could practically float across a floor.  
“Hello? Is there anything I could help you with, Miss?” the voice sounded vaguely familiar to Yang now that she had heard it for a second time and with it being so close. It was feminine, full of charm and with the slightest hint of a Mistralli accent that had been eroded over time. Yang racked her brain trying to figure out who she thought it belonged to but it escaped her. She was sure it was familiar though.

“Yeah actually, I was looking for…” Yang turned around and found crimson eyes staring back at her from a few feet away. Perfectly crimson eyes, like her own when her semblance was active. The women was dressed in a red blouse with black leggings and black boots ending just below her knees. Yang noticed those crimson eyes widening as they held each-other’s gaze. The woman appeared as if she had seen a ghost, her face of palpable shock. Yang looked the women up and down, noticing their physiques was eerily similar. As was the shape of their facial features, and her hair looked like the time Yang had gone through her gothic phase when she was thirteen and dyed it. 

‘Oh god, never again…’ Yang shuddered to herself at the levels of self-embarrassment the memory gave her. The woman made a silent motion with her mouth, one that Yang knew intrinsically after being with Weiss so many times with her breathless and wordless calls whenever they made love. It was the same silent motion of someone saying Yang’s name. Yang reached into one of her jacket pockets, automatically, without even realising it until the picture of team STRQ blocked the view of the woman in front of her. She lowered it slowly, the image of Raven, her mother, being replaced by the woman directly in front of her who resembled her perfectly.

“It’s you…” Yang said in all but a whisper, her voice full of disbelief. “Are you…are you really real?” Yang asked, desperately, her voice still as quiet as a mouse. The woman just nodded back, her face melting into a smile, one of her hands grasping tightly onto the other with a vice-like grip it looked like she was cutting of the flow of blood beyond her wrist. It was her. Her Mother, in a random bookstore, in the middle of Vale, working for a living. Like some domestic fantasy, Yang had daydreamed of in her weaker moments. She didn’t want to make the mistake of thinking it could be real. It couldn’t be. But it could be. She wanted to tell her brain to shut up and shut off and stop making this already impossible conundrum infinitely more difficult to comprehend. She just wanted to ask her Mother one thing: Why?

“Yang.” Raven said with fondness, but also a very noticeable sense of regret and guilt. It tore Yang up, she was hearing her Mother say her name for the first time ever. She didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, she felt like screaming in rage, to rant and rave at being abandoned. But on the other she wanted to break down and cry. She felt exactly like the moment when she and Weiss waited outside the restaurant Qrow had taken them to, but amplified by a factor of 100. Her Mother after so many years had finally said her name, full of love and acknowledgement of her sins.  
It was enraging, her Mother didn’t have the right to say her name after so easily abandoning her. Leaving her like she didn’t matter and now acting as if Yang would be so effortlessly be swayed by a sweet utterance of her name. A name Raven probably had little involvement or knowledge of given how similar it was to her Father’s. But, she couldn’t judge her Mother that straightforwardly could she? Part of her wanted so desperately to cling tight to her and cry and sob out every pain ridden feeling she ever had at thought of not being loved enough by her own parent. By the woman that carried her and gave birth to her. She had to of loved Yang. She wouldn’t be stood here otherwise. She wouldn’t have told Qrow she was in Vale so blatantly if she didn’t want to see Yang. Yang hoped this was Raven coming back to finally work out her own issues and for them to all be a family again. Qrow could have all his conspiracies he wanted, but Yang hoped and prayed her Mother was coming back. She wasn’t Summer, but maybe even Ruby could think of her like a parent, it couldn’t be any harder for Ruby than it would be for Yang, could it?

Previously, Yang had cycled through many assumptions of what her Mother would have had to have been like to leave her. Trying to think rationally and logically for a reason that made sense. Ranging from a selfless sacrifice to leave Yang for her own safety all the way to a vindictive and selfish woman who didn’t care about her at all. 

Yet the look in her eyes told Yang this was a meeting Raven had been both dreading and anticipating with delight the chance to meet her daughter. But it didn’t feel real. None of it did. It was so surreal and subversive to how she imagined this day, if it ever came to pass. Her Mother was here, smiling and struggling not to cry at the sight of her daughter. After being left devoid of answers for so long, she was simply here. She was here, and it felt trivial in a way. There had been so many years Yang was forced to be without her Mother. All the wonderings of where and how she could ever contact her were undermined by the coincidental nature with how they had happened upon the other.

Raven leaned forward, taking Yang by the wrist and pulling her close so she could whisper in the blonde’s ear “Tomorrow. I will tell you everything tomorrow. I have something very important to attend to tonight…” Yang’s anger flared at how her Mother was so easily batting her away after only just meeting her for something supposedly more important than her own daughter. Though she considered that was probably a moot point if the last 17 years were anything to go by. “I promise. My word isn’t worth much to you, but I promise. Truly.” Yang nodded gingerly and automatedly. She felt so hollow and unsure about herself. Her lifelong goal had been realised, and she was being asked to wait. But at least her Mother was being as ambiguous as Uncle Qrow, leaving out the reasons why like he did. She smiled at that. It was familiar.

“Okay…” Yang whispered back, dejection and disappointment dripping from her voice, and her Mother stood back opposite her, still smiling, putting her finger to her lips, signifying for Yang to be quiet before standing erect once more so as to dispel any assumption one could make about their conversation or its intimacy.

“Yang, I found this book, think Weiss will like it?” Blake walked past Raven, a maroon book with a velvet layering to the cover and beautiful golden weaving for the title that read “Songs of Remnant: Volume 1, tales and Ballads”.

“Yeah…thanks Blake…” Yang said like her mind was completely absent from her body, like she was a million miles away. Blake looked between the two, the woman having a pleasantly warm and nostalgic look whilst Yang’s features were distant and dazed. She had no way of knowing what it all meant, but she knew Yang needed her support, so she reached down and squeezed Yang’s hand, informing her she wasn’t alone as she kept a nervously defensive gaze upon the mystery woman whom she had no idea was actually Yang’s mother.

“Who is that for?” Raven asked, as Yang held the book tight, afraid that should she drop it the ground below her would shatter this perfect dream. She brushed the cover with her fingertips, unsteady and shaky breaths rhythmically escaping her lips as she internally begged and pleaded whatever capricious god that was orchestrating these torturous and vindictive events would be so kind as to grant her the one consistent wish she had ever had.

“My girlfriend…” Yang said quietly but the mere thought of Weiss Schnee was enough to calm her. To ease her anxieties and bring about a happier countenance once more to her appearance. 

Raven looked a little taken aback by the answer (not angered or insulted by the implication, just moderately shocked), eyes wide but she recomposed herself, lacing her fingers in front of her “Then I’d love to meet her.”

 

Once she was sure Yang had finally left Raven slid down against the door to the bookstore, sobbing quietly to herself. The blonde had been increasingly hesitant to leave as had her partner, who looked perplexed by Yang’s reaction and the intimate nature the two women appeared to share, looking over her shoulder and staring at Raven as if she would only ever get one chance to see her Mother and was trying to construct the perfect image of the woman in her mind. If Raven’s own track record was to be believed, there was a good chance Yang might never see her again, and she bitterly laughed at the morbid sense of humour she had. She needed to set everything straight with Yang, the girl deserved as much. She had been such a poor Mother, she’d been the worst Mother. She willingly abandoned one of the few things she had ever loved. That sweet bundle of joy that cried in her arms was so small once, and now she was so big and strong. She was so capable, and yet so weak, breaking down and unable to even talk in complete sentences after merely gazing upon her Mother for the first time. 

Raven hated herself, she despised herself. She knew this moment was coming, it had always been in the back of her mind. One day she’d have to subject herself to this. She had abandoned her child years ago, because of the fear she felt. She didn’t want to subject a child to the evils Ozpin had made her aware of. She hated him for that, for trusting her with all of that. If she was ignorant of it all, she could have raised Yang in the tribe with the rest of her people. Or in an ideal world, she could have stayed with Tai and Summer. They could have been happy together. All of them, maybe even Qrow, perhaps her own semblance could have prevented his from harming those he loved. But that was all a dream, an illusion that could never be. It was too late. 

She needed to fight that evil, she needed to protect this world, and now she knew there was no steps she wasn’t willing to take. Raven was determined to protect Yang’s future that she had built for herself, otherwise the sacrifices she had made would be all for nothing. She had to protect everyone. She would commit the sins that Ozpin was to frightened and sensitive to commit. 

Raven curled up against the door, and cried like the night she decided that she had to leave her baby Yang behind. Suddenly, Raven’s scroll started ringing, she sniffled back her sorrow and checked the caller ID. It was Silver calling her right-on time.

“What is it?” She demanded, standing up whilst using the door for support, trying her best to sound less wretched and more commanding. More dangerous.

“We’re in position in Forever Fall. Awaiting on you, boss.” Silver said with displeasure and venom dripping from his voice. Raven chuckled, the boy truly hated playing second fiddle to her.

“I’ll be there in five. Don’t do anything rash.” Raven ended the call and marched into the back of the store, finding the outfit she always wore for combat and holstered her sword by her side.

 

It was time to see if she really could live up to cold nature she knew was required to save everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still chuckling at "One Story Stories" but perhaps I'm just simple minded.
> 
> Okay, I had a couple ideas of how this chapter would play out, but no matter how I did it Raven just came off as an exposition character, kinda like Qrow was. But given the implications of the last chapter it wouldn't really make sense for Yang to be told everything her Mother had planned, and then just shamble back to Beacon in a downtrodden way. This way her tired and lifeless disposition makes sense. She was already worn out and lethargic, but now she's been awoken to her Mother's existence and just as quickly forced away. If I got all that dumped on me in less than 12 hours I'd want to collapse on a bed too.
> 
> Raven is basically losing her cool. Meeting her daughter for the first time since you abandoned her at birth is a very confusing thing for her, especially because why she abandoned her is essentially to protect her. 
> 
> I also apologise for those expecting certain reactions or conversations to be had. I'm teasing you all, I know. I won't make too much of a habit of it, I promise.


	8. Defanged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team SLVR and Raven locate the remnants of the White Fang.

Team SLVR was being accompanied by Raven through the Forrest known as Forever Fall, a well-known area for its Dust transport habitually through the medium of train.

She had ordered them to secure the information for the location of the White Fang so they could eliminate the threat they represented to the world once and for all. Or at least more specifically, the threat that was posed by the renegade faction of the White Fang lead by Adam Taurus under the direct leadership of Salem and her inner council. They walked through the dense and thick crimson tinted forest, the entire ground coated in thick leaves on top of the equally blood-red grass. The pale light of the shattered moon above filtered down onto the crimson meadow below, dying and illuminating it in such a way that it had an ominously ghostly aura. The air was delicately teaming with a thin layer of mist, helping the group conceal their appearance while they judiciously traversed the area. 

The leafing masked their footsteps along with the minor bristling of trees due in part to the stronger than average wind blowing through them and allowed them to sneak up on a group of Faunus patrolling alongside the designated route they planned on following that offered plenty of cover at distance while also minimising the amount they had to hide and wait for opportunities to sneak past patrols. Although patience wasn’t ultimately necessary, as they had quickly slaughtered all but one member of the patrolling White Fang members.

Silver spin-kicked the final White Fang grunt back-first into a tree, the bark splintering and stabbing into his lower back. He screamed in pain as the blood dripped down his back, his fingers twitching in agony and he whimpered as Silver walked straight up to him before ruthlessly attacking him with a right hook that connected with his jaw followed straight up with a left hook immediately after. Blood splattered across the wide tree trunk supporting him. 

Silver struck again, this time connecting with the grunt’s nose using his forearm. Silver continued working the Faunas over, striking with a combination of conventional punching mixtures, open palmed strikes and several knee-strikes to his gut. Linen sighed in boredom and frustration, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Red asked, lacing her hand with Linen’s causing him to reciprocate the action.

“I fucking hate Forever Fall.” Linen complained with a huff.

“Why would that be?” Red asked, her head tilted. Linen usually complained, it was his thing after all. He was there tech-expert but he was also supremely intelligent in general, he had a knack for comprehending anything incredibly quickly to an almost inhuman degree. If he wasn’t complaining about the inefficiency and impracticality of something or simply critiquing a concept just for the fun of it then he was either unconscious or on top of Red. Something the Faunas girl licked her lips at, tightening her grip on his hand and brushing their hands along her hip just to tease.

“Everything is red. Colour of danger. Trees are red, grass is god-damn red. And…” he squinted into the distance towards the hills behind them, leaning forwards as he did so “For fuck’s sake! They have fencing on the damn hill! What shitty Grimm and terrorist infested wood has fencing? Oh, better not fall of the edge of the hill! The Grimm and White Fang don’t wanna be sued!” He seethed. “I hate this fucking place.” He looked back over to his wide-eyed lover “Umm…not that the colour red is bad, mind you.” Red snorted derisively, waving off his apology.

“I get it babe, you know a lot more about symbolism than I do. And trust me, Red is very, very dangerous…” She huskily breathed into his ear.

“Hey!” Silver yelled over to his flirtatious teammates with an arm outstretched as the other was holding the grunt by the collar of his uniform; face bruised and puffy with blood dripping from his mouth. “We have a job to do. Fuck each-other once we’re done here.” He motioned to Red who, after kissing her partner on the cheek, walked over to Silver and the whimpering and crying White Fang grunt. 

“What’s up?” Red asked with a flick of her long hair, brushing it casually and winking at the grunt, who tried his best to shirk away and cower from her. “Wow, you really broke the guy, huh?”

“Not yet.” The two members of team SLVR turned around as Raven moved up from the rear of the group, leaving Viridian to watch their flanks, checking the treeline and whistling to herself as she skipped about. “Red, how reliable is the information you received about the White Fang?” she asked, her voice echoing from within her Grimm-helmet.

She shrugged “Fairly. I won’t deny that men tend to embellish details when they’re in the bedroom.” Silver practically gagged, taking out his disgust at how Red chose to acquire her information by kneeing the grunt in the gut again, finally releasing him to slide down the tree until he was sat limply against it. “I checked his scroll before I killed him anyway. They’re planning on using Forever Fall as a staging ground for their forces in Vale whilst they use recruitment drives to swell their ranks for the next few weeks. We’ll find all their highest-ranking officers here.” 

“Adam Taurus?” Raven’s eyes narrowed and Red nodded.

“I told the officer I was with I was a huge fan of his and wanted to meet him and thank him for all he’s done for my people. Being a Faunas has its benefits.” Red raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“What didn’t you manage to figure out?” Raven asked.

“Only their rough numbers here, weapons and patrol routes. Guy I slept with wasn’t as high-ranking as I assumed, sadly. Wasn’t privy to those details.” Red placed her hands on her hips, waiting for Raven to give her an order, or to answer another question. The Faunas didn’t mind her as much as Silver did, she understood her friend’s complaints and worries but the deep philosophical and moral quandary he always had with working for her never really resonated with her. Red wasn’t too bothered with what was right and wrong, the only reason Silver and her had survived their childhood was because they were willing to do anything to survive. She saw the parallels with what Raven was doing to their own lives, so she didn’t have any complaints that she particularly cared to level. Silver did have the problem of considering the morality and how appropriate the job was to their own ethical code. She didn’t envy him because of that, she felt sorry for the man she grew up with alongside Linen and Viridian. If anything, it was commendable. He had a level of virtue and integrity that was elusive to Red, almost alien. Sometimes, when she was alone, curled up by herself with a naked body next to her, she felt guilty. Over what, she wasn’t sure, but it flared to life every so often. She grew angry at herself and wanted nothing more than to change her ways. To become something better and more like Silver, the righteous and honourable boy who protected her from the racist beatings. But it’s hard to change yourself so late in the game, it was evident to her what exactly she was at this point, and if it could help benefit anyone in even the slightest way she would grab it. If that involved working for a morally grey arbiter of justice then that is exactly what she would do. 

“Hmm…” Raven peered down at the broken and bloodied grunt below her, before turning back to Red. “Red, use your semblance on him. Silver, pick him up.” Silver nodded, and reluctantly picked the grunt up, who began begging for them to stop, earning him another punch to the gut. Red leaned forward with an open hand, and it started to pulsate a grey aura surrounding her hand. She clamped her hand over the grunts mouth and his protests and whimpers turned to silence. His face still gesticulated as if it was making noise but nothing but pure silence exited as the aura surrounded his entire face, cutting off its colour in addition.

“Shhh.” Red brought used her free hand’s index finger to her lips and smiled, sultrily and teasingly, at the wounded White Fang member. “There isn’t any point. Nobody will hear you. My Semblance is the ability to completely silence whatever I touch. It’s how I root about after I fuck your officers. They sleep soundly while I pilfer information off of them without making a single octave. And then I kill them to boot, just cause.” She giggled cruelly. “You should be happy, you’re one of the few men to enjoy my touch like this. And only one of them has ever lived.”

“Yo.” Linen raised his hand in acknowledgment of the club he was the sole member of, as he barely payed attention, looking off to scan the treeline with Viridian for any potential adversaries. Silver couldn’t contain his laughter at the claim by Red, he knew that there were probably more men who had fallen victim to that touch then even necessary for the jobs they were working. Red often tended to mix business with pleasure an overabundant amount. Red exhaled in exasperation at her leader. He may have been right that she was as loose and promiscuous as any, but he didn’t have to be a jerk about it.

Because of Silver’s distraction, she didn’t expect Raven to stab her sword through the kneecap of the grunt, whose jaw opened wide in what was no doubt a scream of intense and agonising pain, yet nothing came out. 

“Holy shit, boss!” Red said wide-eyed, as Raven twisted the sword, earning more silent screams. What little she could see of Raven’s eyes through the slits in her mask terrified Red. Those eyes were callous and unrepentant, they took no joy in what she was doing, but they certainly showed no regret. Raven kept twisting and dipping the sword to push against bone, tendons and ligaments alike to make it an even worse experience for their captive. It started becoming difficult for Red to stomach it, feeling her stomach churn at the sounds of splintering bone. But even so, Red kept her hand fastened tightly to the grunt’s mouth, knowing if she removed her hand for even a second there was no doubt they would give away their position and inform they White Fang before they had even gotten a chance to ambush them.

“Be quiet, Red.” Raven ordered sternly, the Faunus looking down to the ground, a mixture of guilt over so loudly exclaiming her surprise as well as anger at being reprimanded by Raven. Being ordered so directly and strictly was not something she particularly enjoyed. “Undo your semblance once he’s used up his energy screaming. Then we’ll have broken him, and that is when we’ll get the information we want.” Red nodded, following her orders to the very letter until the grunt was barely even making the motion to whine. His tears and saliva running down his face stained and dyed with his blood. Red slowly removed her hand and his pathetic cries became audible. Raven released her grip on her sword, keeping it impaled through his knee and cupped the grunt’s face. She tilted it to look at her. “If you tell me how many men you have, I’ll kill you quickly.” Raven bore her eyes into his own and despite his limited resolve and physical capability from Silver’s beating and her despicable torture, he nodded his head in confirmation.

“E-Eighty of us…a-a-another fifty are arriving tomorrow…” he groaned out.

“Good.” Raven quickly ripped her sword out from his knee and swiftly stabbed him through the heart, running the blade through the trunk of the tree with ease. The grunt stiffened and choked on the   
growing bile of blood in the back of his throat, Raven withdrew her blade and allowed the Grunt’s body to fall lifelessly onto the crimson ground below. His blood spreading out and camouflaging with the surface below. “Let’s make sure those reinforcements have nothing and nobody to arrive to.” Raven said coldly and Red thought to herself that the mask was almost redundant by this point, as Raven’s face and constant tone of vicious indifference could do enough to inspire fear without it. She was even having second thoughts about Silver being what she had thought was too paranoid and critical of Raven’s methods. It was bordering on barbaric.

Viridian skipped over to the dead body, crouching down and inspecting it with a mixture of morbid curiosity and glee. She dipped her fingers into the pooling blood below the deceased faunas, sniffing the spilt plasma. She always had an unusual fixation with the deceased, especially when they were by her own hand. It was like she treated them with a sense of platonic love. She grew marginally attached, sometimes thanking them for allowing her to commit the atrocity. 

“I haven’t gotten to murder once. It’s dull being a spectator.” She sighed. It wasn’t unusual for Viridian to be kept from missions or involving herself in physical altercations, especially in heavily populated areas. She was a dangerous asset with a lack of self-control and often failed to make distinctions between friend and foe. Her team was slightly different as she manged to acknowledge the discrepancy, although that hadn’t always been the case. She flicked the blood off of her fingers before rising to her feet, skipping over to hold Silver for the sole purpose of selfishly holding his hand. It always alleviated her disquiets and boredom. She simply couldn’t resist giving into even the mildest of temptations to display her affections both out of desire and fear. Fear he may finally snap and leave her. Despite this, she smiled up to her slightly taller lover, nuzzling his strong arm. “Something is on your mind, isn’t it?” She analysed based on the conflicted expression Silver had as he watched Raven walk on ahead, scouting the area for any more of the White Fang, eyes flicking back to the corpse his lover was attending to and then to Raven once more.

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” Silver said with a strained sense of amusement. He was being such an open window that Viridian probably wasn’t too far off from psycho-analysing him, and that would be utterly ludicrous coming from the mentally-unstable girl.

“Nope!” Viridian shifted into a joyous and happy expression, bouncing on her tiptoes. Silver stroked up and down her arm. His lover suffered from Dissociative Identity Disorder coupled with schizophrenia, mainly ranging from her impressively articulate and resourceful persona, her childish and innocent persona and finally her default persona of the psychotic sadist. But when around him she was controlled and measured, she adored the man and always deferred to him before anyone else. Even her own compulsive voices in her mind telling her to do a myriad of horrific and unforgivable actions could be easily ignored if Silver were the one telling what to do. It was a special bond they shared, and not one he took lightly. He did his best not to patronise or treat her like she was a danger. Like she was some dangerous weapon ready to explode if mishandled. Viridian was her most stable when she was treated like a person. Like a human. Even though she was so much more, both figuratively and literally.

“I don’t trust Raven. She’s colder and more bloodthirsty than three months ago, during the attack on Beacon. She let the Fang escape or at worst she only incapacitated them there.” Viridian nodded at the grave nature Silver used when examining Raven.

“I don’t either, Silver. But, remember, it’s either we listen to her and her methods or let Salem win. And that’s worse than any sin you could commit.” It was basic logic but Silver knew there was little in way of arguing against Viridian here. She was fundamentally correct, and despite his reservations he had little motivation in conspiring against Raven, but like hell would he just let her walk over whomever she wanted so coldheartedly. 

That wasn’t all, he sensed futile emptiness in the way Viridian spoke. She was talking directly about Silver, because she saw him as a measure to base morality off of. She idolised him, but also thought very little of herself. She considered herself a lost soul, not something worth saving or following a morally righteous life. She only metered her own ferocious ways because of him, and Silver hated that. He hated that she was so damaged she couldn’t control herself unless he was there. She deserved better, she deserved to live without concern or stigma or anguish. She had been through more than all of their team combined. When a person is harmed enough, and experiences enough trauma, they begin to develop coping mechanisms. Viridian had been completely broken when they found her as children, she was the last to join their quartet. By the time they had met her a coping mechanism was pointless, there was little chance she would ever find even a healthy or unhealthy constructive way to shackle her demons and know what harmony really was. She only had her obsessions, that kill and maim. The best they could do was placate her. After a time, she developed a degree of control, but that was only after she had done things no man should ever recall seeing or even hypothesising. However, it was worse for Silver, he was complicit in all those nightmares. In the world of never-ending darkness and torment that was Viridian’s mind, they had forged a connection. He knew her pain, he had felt it first hand through her rantings and ravings, through the actions she took. She had something and someone to rely on for once, someone who understood her. That calmed her, made her more docile. 

But it could only ever do so much for her. 

He gripped her hand tight, staring down at her wide-eyed expression with a countenance of resolve, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “I’m going to commit any sin I have to for you.” She brought her own hands to his, rubbing the back of his hands sympathetically and soothingly.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret, for a girl with no soul.” She smiled, but it was a dishonest smile with a tangible level of regret and pain in it. Pain she had lived with for so long. They always disagreed over what Viridian deserved. The girl happy to be the tortured and psychotic soul, happy to endlessly march towards her own doom and Silver relentlessly trying to stop her and guide to a brighter path. Viridian pulled up her hood, obscuring her face and whatever undoubtedly tormented expression she had before she walked off ahead of him, leaving Silver to lament his continued failure of helping Viridian.

He knew it was an unwinnable fight, but that never stopped Silver before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter was actually one that was divided into three, because it proved so incredibly long. There are positives in the sense it feels like team SLVR (primarily Viridian and Silver) get a little bit of development and exposition about them. In addition, it helps give the whole team their own miniature arc in the overriding narrative.
> 
> As I said previously in Chapter 5, team SLVR are mercenaries. They have commendable motivations and goals, but they are fully willing to commit any sickening thing to reach their goal and a lot of the time they'll take pleasure in it. They aren't healthy human beings, and they blame the world for it.
> 
> And yeah, Viridian has Dissociative Identity Disorder and schizophrenia. I alluded to it when she stared off into space in chapter 5 and her lack of social cohesiveness with her team (Remember, she was sat by herself). I kinda wrote her almost as an aggregate for the bad that didn't happen in Volume 3 as a result of Salem and Cinder failing. So she's essentially the trade off for that.
> 
> The other two chapters that were part of the this one are done, just being fine-tuned.


	9. A world White and SLVR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SLVR find the White Fang, though all is not as simple as they hoped.

Team SLVR and Raven managed to navigate their way through the remainder of the Forever Fall Forest until they came to a large circular clearing in the direct centre of the woodland. 

Dozens of tents emblazoned with the White Fang logo littered around the clearing, surrounded with scattered boxes that almost certainly contained a combination of supplies like ammunition, dust and basic essentials such as rations for a paramilitary organisation. Silver looked over the dry food that required water to be properly edible and sneered at it, tossing it to the floor, crushing it under his foot. 

He never had much love for the White Fang, as a young child he always supported the peaceful movement mostly out of a sense of pride and obligation. As a Faunas, whose parents were killed before he even had a chance to learn their names or faces, he felt an inherent injustice in the world and a prejudice he wanted to right. But as time went on and the faction began resorting to violence against both deserving and undeserving he started to resent the group. Justice was a concept he didn’t just grow up accepting was an important cornerstone of a successful and cohesive society that Vaccuo had cast away at the end of the Great War, he admired it. He respected and heralded the notion as one of the most important factors in Remnant’s collective society, the same way honour was of great value to Mistral and success was to Atlas. There was no honour, no success and certainly no justice in the actions of the White Fang. It helped steel himself for what was certainly to come. 

“You realise we’re walking into a trap, right?” Silver looked over to Raven, eyes narrowed as he did. To emphasise his point, he spread his arms out wide and they all listened to the unnatural silence that befell the entire encampment. Not a whisper was uttered, only the wind brushing against the trees providing any disparity to the silence all around them.

Raven chuckled patronisingly towards Silver “Of course. There is no doubt they would be suspicious after we eliminated several patrols. But if you’ll forgive the analogy and the offence it could cause; they’re like wounded animals. Weak, terrified, and reckless.”

Silver looked around the silent camp, only because he wanted few brief moments to think to himself. Raven was no fool, she always calculated and planned their missions in frightening detail, even if she restricted their knowledge of specific and important details to dismiss notions of scepticism that team SLVR was equally heralded and despised for. There was no doubt in his mind that she had planned this out in frightening detail which killed his misgivings somewhat. Although the exact nature of what Raven was intending to do did somewhat unease him.

His eyes fell upon Viridian for a moment, who had found a girder or rafter of metal (Silver wasn’t all that knowledgeable of the differentiation between the two) and was balancing on it, moving one foot directly ahead of the other with both arms outstretched to her sides for equilibrium. She whistled a tune immaturely, taking the time to wave the Silver with a blissful smile. It was beautiful how carefree she could be, and he thought it couldn’t hurt to be so indifferent to the perils associated with their occupation. It helped with her being here. In the worst-case scenario, she could show just why despite how little she contributed on average to team SLVR why she was so highly valued. To display her pure killing intent and the almost artful skill she implemented with it. 

“No offence taken. Trust me, I know by this point you’re not a racist.” Silver said casually. “I suppose you have a plan in mind? Or are we winging it?” Silver asked straightforwardly. 

“I have a plan in mind.” Raven said vaguely before walking ahead, passing by several of the tents as she journeyed towards the centre, where a thin trail of smoke billowed into the sky.

“Sounds like winging it to me…” Silver mumbled. Linen walked up to Silver, a smug look on his face as he leant his elbow on his friend’s shoulder.

“So, oh infallible Leader, guess we’re stumbling in the dark again?”

“I’m beginning to become infuriatingly accustomed to it.” Silver spat, eyes narrowed in the direction of Raven. He was certain at this point it wasn’t just on principle that she reluctantly informed team SLVR, but was doing it to both spite him and aggravate the Wolf-Faunas.

“Eh, just as well. They say doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is a sign of insanity.” 

“Given how much sex Red puts herself through she must be crazy.” Silver declared with amusement.

“Nah, not a fair comparison. She either expects information or the time of her life. And trust me, I always give her the latter.” There was a cocky in the way Linen spoke, matched by the glint in his eye.

“Keep your mind out of the gutter, boys. There’s a job to do.” Red reprimanded them as she reached down to the holsters wrapped tightly, too tightly Silver though, around her legs containing two hexagonally barrelled magnums while scanning the route ahead, obviously relying on her own sense of scepticism about the area being actually abandoned. 

“I thought your mind had to go to the gutter for you to do your job?” Silver teased and Red brought her hand back to flip him off instead of bothering to give him a proper response. He just shrugged “She’s no fun when she’s serious.”

“You’re telling me. It’s all euphemisms and short skirts or that serious attitude shtick with her. I can’t find a middle ground.” Linen complained as they started walking through the camp, peeking inside the minimally personalised tents. Enough to suggest the White Fang had the time to set up and get comfortable but were ready to pack up in a moment’s notice.

“To be fair, it’s not like it’s the biggest complaint you could make about her.” He claimed while referring to her obvious habits of being promiscuous with men that weren’t Linen.

“That doesn’t even phase me anymore. Not that I ever really gave it much notice. We have an emotional connection as well as a physical one. Something no guy can take from me.”

“Aww, aren’t you the romantic? Come on lover boy, tell me more of how deep and meaningful all the sex she’s having with other men is between the two of you.” Silver teased, earning him a look of disapproval.

“At least I actually make love to my girlfriend.”

“Ouch, touche.” 

“Hey! Look!” Viridian hollered from behind them as she jogged up, pointing to the treeline ahead of them, moving her hand level with her forehead to try and get a better look despite the technique only being applicable when there was a glare from the sun. Silver and Linen looked ahead to a singular individual crouched ahead of them directly in the centre of the encampment by a dying fire pit, poking it with the end of a sheathed blade. “Just…the one?” Viridian asked as they moved past the final set of tents and caught up with Raven and Red. Stood there simply waiting for the man in black and red with brown hair streaked with red, Bull-Faunas horns poking out the top of his head, to acknowledge them. The space beyond the final groups of tent was a large open area, circular in shape with about 100 metres from end to end.

“I don’t think there’s just the one…” Silver whispered under his breath, looking around them, thanks to the increased capacity his Faunas constitution gave him, to see dozens of White Fang grunts and officers step out from behind the thick trees and stand up from beneath the tall grass and encircle them. Automatic rifles, shot guns and pistols all pointed at them from every conceivable angle. Red even swore she could see a few snipers from within the tree branches. The Grunt who they tortured seemed to have his estimates more or less accurate, Linen using his intelligence and sharp natured observation skills to discern there was more or less 78 of them. Though he was under pressure, so he could have been off slightly. “Raven. What’s the plan?” Silver asked, tensing his fingers Dust-infused black gloves, each finger generating the light glow of an element.

The Mistralli women took her stance, one hand resting tightly on the handle of her blade, eyes fixated on the Faunas in black directly ahead who still seemed intent on making them wait for his full-attention. Though Raven simply stood ready, not attacking, her gaze fixated as Silver become more and more apprehensive. They didn’t have any advantage apart from attacking first and capturing the initiative give how they had willingly walked into a trap. Making the first move and capturing them unawares was possibly the only hope they had, and even so it was still completely suicidal. Or they would risk becoming scraps of meet for passing Nevermore to feast on. Silver was very much aware with such numbers they couldn't win an all-out battle, so he had placed his faith in Raven and her Machiavellian strategy to figure out their next move, because as it stood everything was looking very bleak.

“Wait. We’ll prey on his sense of honour.” Raven said lowly, and for a moment Silver thought he heard fear. Or was it excitement? Perhaps there was a mixture of the two. It wasn’t really the opportune time for Silver to study Raven’s tone.

“After we killed at least five of his men?” Silver scrutinised Raven’s enduring nature.

“He hasn’t killed us yet and he knows he could. Be patient. I said I had an idea, if it goes south just let Viridian go wild. But if it works then we can cut off the head and the body will perish along with it.” Raven continued to whisper and Silver scowled. He’d listen, for now. He looked over to Viridian, who seemed blissfully unaware of their surroundings as she stared off into space. It was taunting how easily the girl just didn’t stress over the deadliest of scenarios. She’d be the first person not only to volunteer to walk into a King Taiitu’s den, but also happy to do so. Her own reckless ignorance of her wellbeing was something Silver wished for sometimes, to be calmer and worry less. 

However, all that mattered in that moment was defeating the White Fang in Vale for good, and it was too late to attack the White Fang oblivious of their presence. He silently cursed his luck, but stood steadfast at the overwhelming odds.

The man who had been ignoring them finally rose and faced them as the kindling’s flames slowly receded deeper and deeper within as it retreated upon itself. His face was partially covered his face, only two small slits over either eye providing any way for him to perceive the world ahead of him whilst ostensibly shielding his eyes from the outside world. He walked with a confident sway, which spoke volumes about him as a Faunas, since most would lack the self-confidence to so extrovertly express themselves like that. It was probably fuelled by the Chokutō holstered within a sheath with a magazine and trigger situated towards the entrance of the holster. 

Silver knew the combination of weapons well, whilst he could be described as someone who thought they were abhorrent as a group, it hadn’t stopped him working jobs for the White Fang when their goals coincided. Although it would appear as though that business relationship had well and truly been soured. That was if their interference in the Attack on Beacon hadn’t already done that. Once or twice Silver had been forced to work alongside Adam Taurus, and he felt disappointment to face off against Adam with the sole intention of ending his life. At one point, Adam had been a man with the dream to give the Faunas equal standing as humans, but something changed within him, making him the monster that tried to slaughter a school of teenagers and any humans he could get his hands on. But Silver had to bury that feeling of regret and sadness at witnessing the culmination of the constant decline of a similar philosopher to himself. A man of greater introspection may have realised the similar route Silver was on to becoming like Adam, but Silver didn’t make long-term plans. He focused on the here and the now, and right now Adam was his adversary.

“You.” Adam Taurus said, turning his head towards Silver. His words were more of a growl than anything, laced with hatred and dripping with venom. “I never thought you’d take orders from a human, and betray our kind so wantonly. You’re depraved scum, Silver Aloi.”

“Sorry to be a disappointment. But as you know, I was never exactly the perfect example of one of your mindless drones, Taurus. I don’t kill based on a misconception that prejudice from some is the sin of all to bear.” Silver said, his tone at first mocking and measured turned similarly confrontational.

“Drones? Mindless? Do you have any clue what our people have been put through? Or are you so easily swayed by money?” Adam’s line of sight shifted to the right, looking at the slightly smaller hooded girl clung tightly to Silver’s shirt. “Or…perhaps that human is just too fun playing with to care?” Silver growled at Adam’s all too obvious attempt to get him riled up. If not for the gloves he wore his quivering hands would be bleeding white from the strain of how tightly they were wound.

“If you say anything about Viridian again, I swear I’ll mail your head to the SDC personally, Taurus.” Silver warned. “And don’t think that I don’t know damn well what our people suffer through! Every day! Every night!” Silver screamed passionately, Viridian shrinking in size before the impressive flow of rage lining Silver’s voice. Even Raven took a step to the side with Red also flinching slightly. Linen was the only one unreactive as he was used to his friend’s zealous display of vitriolic rage when talking about his views on Faunas treatment. “I’ve seen every display of inhuman indecency and disgusting act ever committed on our people! But what you have done is worse! You’ve led the minds of young, passionate and easily swayed Faunas down a path that justifies people like Jacques Schnee in treating us like animals! You’ve ruined the Faunus’ only chance at freedom for generations!” Silver seethed, taking some deep and laboured breaths, before straightening out “I’m going to undo your damage. I’m going to make you pay for your crimes against humanity and Faunus. I’m going to make sure, even if I die here, your name won’t be recorded in any history books. I’m going to kill you. And I’ll do it slowly.” Raven stepped ahead of Silver, blocking him by pressing her arm to his chest.

“No.” she said simply, commandingly. There wasn’t room for debate or alternatives. “Silver. Do you trust me?” She asked, and he sneered. No. Silver could never trust such a cold monster as Raven Branwen. “Do you care at least about what happens to the Faunus kind?” 

He nodded, eyes narrowed and burning with fury.

“Then trust me. For now. And when the chance comes, take it.” She said compromisingly and Silver nodded once more but this time it was more willing, although he was curious about what she meant by the chance she spoke of, but she was clearly plotting something to get them out of the situation outside of a body bag or unmarked grave. He’d trust Raven for now, if he had to. If it helped save his people. That was one of his primary motivations for even listening to Raven’s idea of attacking the last major White Fang camp in Vale. He would hate slaughtering his own people, but it was the sacrifice of the few for the many. Simply put, it was the only choice available. “Taurus. The girl. She’s the one who slaughtered your soldiers back at Beacon. Her name is Viridian Aurora. Kill her and allow the rest of us to leave. We’ll be on even terms and the little back and forth between my tribe and your movement can be at an end.” Raven pointed to Viridian, the girl’s eyes wide and saucer-like in their consternation at being singled out, pointing to herself. 

Adam seemed to contemplate the arrangement for a moment. He weighed up the offer with his thoughts being displayed on his face. Eventually he nodded. “Fine. But if you think this ends amicably, Branwen, then you’re mistaken. Salem won’t allow you to just walk away.”

“Oh, I’m very much aware of what Salem’s aspirations are. Besides, I don’t believe I ever claimed Viridian would go quietly into the night. I’d be careful of that ego; a big head is a much easier target.” Raven mocked, much to the chagrin of Adam.

“Me?” Viridian asked quietly. Apprehension mixing into her timid voice. Silver wanted to scream and rave about how he would never allow Viridian to be sacrificed in his stead. Yet he knew the girl’s capabilities even better than Raven. If Raven thought she could goad Adam with her and have Viridian win, which was his assumption, then she would win decisively. If not, he would wait for the opening Raven had been alluding to, kill Adam and teleport away with Viridian. He’d leave everyone else to their deaths if he had to, but it wasn’t as if they were all of equal value to him. In a pinch, Viridian was all that mattered. He would stay his seething anger. He would place his trust in Raven. And Viridian. 

“Yes, Viridian. You. A sacrificial offering to the White Fang.” She held out her arm to Adam “Go. Accept your fate, child. I fully expect you to emerge victorious, one way or the other.” Viridian looked to Silver, expecting him to offer some argument against it. Or at least, to give her permission. His order, his word, was all that mattered. 

“Viridian…show them why you’re the muscle.” Silver smiled, and the girl’s eyes went wide in pride and joy. Joy at the coming slaughter. The voices inside of her would be sated. She skipped over to Adam, standing a mere few metres away from him, bouncing on the balls of her feet and craning her neck to the sky, and then back down to Adam. She loved the spray of blood in the pale moonlight, it was beautifully poetic and visually satisfying. She hoped his blood wouldn’t disappoint. 

“Viridian Aurora. You killed fifty of my men back at Beacon. I don’t know how…” Adam’s grip tightened to the point it shook gently and rattled within its holster from his growing instability of tolerating the girl ahead of him. “But how doesn’t matter. You killed my men. And honour dictates I take your life in their name.” He drew Wilt from the sheath, Blush. Viridian closed her eyes, smiling daintily with her head tilted down. As she opened them once more, something changed. Something very noticeably altered in her disposition. Her smile became dishevelled and crooked. Her eyes retreated, her iris’ shrinking along with her pupils until they were beady and psychotic. They bore into his mask, almost piercing straight through the covering. She could almost sense his fear like a trapped animal. No doubt, like many before him, they hadn’t expected the unassuming and adorable girl to be plastered with such a deranged expression.

She craned her neck around for Silver, her psychotic and inhumanly mad expression almost stared past him. He refused to meet her gaze, as it scared him too much. Even Silver couldn’t stand this part of her. Her obsession with death, causing agony, and her love of wanton destruction of anything ranging from typical infrastructure to life itself was never fun to deal with, nor her psychotic ramblings about the voices inside of her, but he could deal with that because she reined it in. She controlled and supressed it for Silver, for Linen and for Red because she loved them all and understood her darkest dreams and desires would not be practical for the persistence of their lives together. But her psychosis when forcibly exposed in a state of necessity like this was horrifying. It was like something out the worst most relatable evil you could ever contemplate and then multiply it by a factor of 100. 

“Silver~” She called in a sickeningly sweet way, slurring his name like it was some drug that lowered her inhibitions. “Please may I kill this one? Please?” She stood on her tiptoes, hands held tightly together behind her back as she rocked back and forth. Silver let out a long, reluctant sigh. More laboured and exasperated than any he had probably ever uttered. He knew what would happen. The dangers that were naturally associated with it. Much like Viridian had accomplished by trapping Adam with a mere look, Raven with her damned clandestine motives and strategies had shoved Silver into a corner. Maybe it was to test his trust, maybe it was to punish him, or maybe Raven just feared Viridian that much she wanted to try and eliminate her. Cut off the incalculable variable before it proved too troublesome. Or maybe her was overly troubled about nothing, Raven did seem surprisingly honest and encouraging. Not that Viridian would die to anyone nevertheless, she could only be killed if she really willed it. If she grew tired of her own life to the point his own word no longer carried any weight to her. But she was asking for his permission, she would be fine.

“Yes.”

He hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so to summarise:
> 
> Some light-teasing and shenanigans between team SLVR. They're a family, it's their job to infuriate and take jabs at each-other to lift the dark spells of their lives with a bit of humour and self-deprecation.
> 
> Viridian's hype is reaching critical mass. If she could kill 50 White Fang members, and gain the personal ire of their leader, just how dangerous can she be?
> 
> And Raven either played Adam like a fiddle, if you believe in the Viridian hype, or sent Viridian off to her death. Depends if you're an optimist or Silver. Haha. But yeah, it makes sense that Adam would want to personally kill a human who robbed the lives of many of his loyal soldiers, he would naturally value their lives highly given what he's fighting for, however misguided, and so being drawn into a death-match is well within his character.


	10. Maiden of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grudge match of Viridian vs. Adam.

With the confirmation given for Viridian to run wild, there was little that could stop her. She had been promised a life. The soulless reaper must be granted recompense in exchange for her own lack of humanity. Her mind was set on it. 

She shut her eyes tight, Silver watching with bated breath for the marvel that was Viridian’s semblance, eyes transfixed on her two hands stretched out in front of her like they were about to catch something falling from the sky. For a few brief moments, nothing happened particularly. However, orbs of light began to crackle above Viridian’s hands, they weren’t intensely bright, but they certainly shone. After a few more seconds, the light began melding together into the shape of a sword, before shattering; an actual blade landing in her outstretched hands. She bounced on her tiptoes. She gave satisfied and almost gloating purr. The blade itself was only two inches thick, and about a metre in length with a single double-edge blade. It had a black guard on only one of its flanks and curved to the bottom of the handle like a cutlass would. The weapon also consisted of a grey-stone coloured handle with the butt of the blade shaped into a sharp silver-metal arrow head. The sheath was a simple black scabbard, adorned with gems and depictions of the sun. The blade was much thinner than Adam’s own weapon, designed more for light attacks aimed at avoiding armour and piercing the flesh quickly, with little effort required to slide between bone and damage the internals of a target. For a duel, it was an odd weapon for Viridian to construct, like she was purposefully leaving herself vulnerable and at a disadvantage.

It may have not been obvious to Adam or Raven, or any of the onlooking White Fang soldiers still holding them ready for the execution they appeared to still intend on carrying out, but Viridian was mocking him. She didn’t fear how dangerous or skilled he was. She revelled in that knowledge he could take her life, she wasn’t naïve enough to think for a second that the passionately heralded leader of the White Fang’s most militant faction would be a push-over. She was well aware of the perils involved in taunting a deadly for such as him, and still she was essentially daring him the try and take her life. Like it was some foregone conclusion she would be victorious. Team SLVR had been witness to Viridian conducting herself in an identical manner countless times, and it was never exactly easy to watch.

Regardless, there was a very real difference between what Viridian was implying or indicating for Adam to attempt and what the voices inside her head demanded of her. A cacophony of miserable, evil, demanding, pleading, begging, hate-filled, brutal and vicious voices all screaming for different outcomes and different actions to be performed by the raven and blonde haired girl. The one constant message being to kill Adam and have a good time of it. And of course, she was happy to oblige them.

She shot forward at blinding pace, no semblance or aura generating her speed, just her thirst for destruction.

Adam was taken aback by the speed Viridian moved at, but was skilled enough of a swordsman to block the initial vertical slash aimed at severing him in twain with a half-swording block. Viridian didn’t waste time by trying to test the resolve of Adam’s defence, opting instead to begin attacking and striking with a flurry of random and amateurish strikes, no consistency or discernible technique behind them. They were wild, mirroring the maddening smile streaking across Viridian’s face. She consistently managed to break through his defences, more out of speed and her own unrelenting style than skill, and leave small cuts as she nicked at his shoulders and torso, never electing to leave any wounds that weren’t purely superficial. Her maddening laughter followed every attack, assaulting his sense of sound with each blow. There was a degree of intelligence and premeditation about the attacks, however, Viridian even in a blood-lust and in her most fragmented form she still maintained a degree of planning. Each injury upon Adam, whilst minor, was draining his aura to heel the small and insignificant wounds. The gradualness was inevitably going to leave him weak and open for the kill. Viridian was patient enough to just enjoy the misery and agony she was inflicting in the battle to wait for him to be drained to a pathetic husk. Then she would be rewarded with her gift of butchery.

Viridian flashed around Adam, slashing deeper at the back of his legs, and cutting the foundation of his stance away. The Faunas gasped in pain, stabbing his weapon into the ground for leverage. Viridian just laughed, taking several steps back to enjoy his weakened state.

“Those fifty men were more of a challenge! You’re nothing!” She giggled manically as she charged in, all intentions at wearing down the more experienced swordsman abandoned in a single attempt to run him through from behind. Adam dug his sword out from the ground and slashed around in a wide arc, blocking Viridian’s attempted impalement and knocking her off balance with his heavier frame and weapon. Adam immediately pressed the advantage, launching several quick swipes and slashes that Viridian used her greater athleticism to avoid through a combination of handsprings and cartwheels. It only served to fuel the anger in Adam however, at how casually she was treating him, laughing and giggling with every attack from either party. He viciously slashed across her chest, only for the girl to bend backwards under the attack, pushing one leg ahead of herself for balance and smirked at him. She twirled back into a standing position and hurled herself at him in a shoulder tackle. It was another superficial piece of offence, only sending the Faunus marginally stumbling back a few paces, but it was irritating him and provided her with gratification at his kindling rage.

Adam thrust his blade as he sought to stab Viridian, who twirled around his sword and smashed the back of her armament against Adam’s head, blood now leaking down his neck and staining his dark clothing. Before he could even react to the sensation Viridian seized her opportunity, swiftly landing a thrust kick to the back of his head again, sending Adam sprawling across the floor with a roll from the explosive force it delivered. Once more Adam managed to get back to his feet, though it was slower and he seemed under greater strain from his own weight, finding it difficult to adjust to it.  
Viridian flashed forwards and slashed at an angle down Adam’s chest, only for him to block with his sword, sparks screaming from the collision of the two weapons, and shifted his weight far quicker than Viridian had expected with his weakened state, shoving her down and past him as he manipulated her own momentum. 

The girl slid in a crouch directly behind him and heard the air being chopped apart by the intensity of a swing from her rear. Instantaneously she judged the height of the blade to be aimed low, so she pressed her hands to the ground, leaving her blade nestled in the ruby grass as she pushed off in a handspring and marginally avoid Adam’s sword. She didn’t have the requisite time to judge for distance or a proper landing position, so she tumbled onto her back as she landed, grunting from the impact of her own momentum. Adam’s boot stomped into her chest promptly after, Viridian coughing hard at the unexpected pressure shooting stimuli of throbbing pain over her torso. Viridian’s voices within her head cursed her for so foolishly falling for Adam’s obvious feint and exaggeration of his injuries. Not that she had much of a battle plan other than fight hard and fast and see who had the stamina to outlast the other.

Adam pulled Viridian into the air by both her hands, she kicked the air relentlessly and used what little momentum she had to feebly rock back and forth as she snarled in an animalistic manner at the Faunas, who appeared to be enjoying the lack of control and restraint the girl was so vehemently displaying. 

“It’ll be fun, slicing up Silver’s pet a piece at a time…” Adam smirked sinisterly as he carved his sword with his free hand through the air, and Viridian fell from his grasp at the same time for some inexplicable reason. She dropped down onto her knees, her wrists screaming in pain like they were on fire. She felt warm liquid running down her arms and dripping onto her legs. Her breathing was ragged and unrefined, her insane and wild disposition slowly became more controlled out of necessity and self-preservation in order to become aware of her surroundings. Looking down she gasped at seeing her hands severed from below her wrists. Blood streamed and squirted from the wounds, her own arms shaking from the shock of having her body so effortlessly cut apart. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as her body finally became aware of just how much pain she was truly in, doubling over herself, until her voice was hoarse. Adam bent down to take a knee just ahead of her, smirking, enjoying his handiwork as he grabbed a handful of her hair and brought her intensely infuriated gaze that was twitching from the pain level with his mask. “How does it feel? Having something so quickly and mercilessly robbed from you? Now you know just how the Faunas feel.” Viridian bubbled with fury, her breathing ragged while it was mingled with both rage and aching. She bared her teeth and launched herself at Adam, clamping her teeth down on his nose, biting deep into his skin until she felt bone. “Ah! Fuck!” Adam screamed, clutching his face as Viridian let go as soon as she felt the grip on her hair disappear, scampering away from Adam until her back hit into a solid surface, one of the boxes holding dust and equipment. 

Viridian upon comprehending Adam’s blood drenched face, thanks to his punctured nose, was filled with a sense of gruesome delight. She raced her tongue at the rich plasm coating her lips. 

She activated her semblance, she had an abundance of aura, but what she would plan to do next would rob her of most of it. She focused on her stumps where her appendages used to be located, forcing all aura into constructing something in their place. Light crackled and sizzled around the wounds, her own face tight with concentration and pain at the sheer amount of force she required to use in order to manually manipulate her soul. The light soon began to crack, and the sound of shattering that accompanied the formulation of a new item resonated around the whole clearing. Viridian opened her eyes and saw the fruits of her labour: two new hands. She breathed a sigh of relief. Testing her new digits for flexibility and when she was satisfied with how they worked her faced morphed into anger as she focused on Adam; the Faunus clutching his blood-soaked nose and chin whilst looking in absolute disbelief at Viridian’s hands, marred in blood around the wrists but otherwise lacking any evidence to suggest Viridian had ever been wounded by Adam’s blow.

She panted, it had taken a great deal of energy to restore her body despite the fact it was a common activity for her to perform because of the great number of injury’s she usually sustained from her thoughtless and reckless abandon at which she fought, it still required an immeasurable amount of her aura to replace even a small part of her limb.

Shakily, she got back to her feet, she whimpered at how tired she felt and was beginning to hear the voices in her head grow fainter about the kill specifically, wanting instead to just nap. Much to her chagrin, Adam started firing from his shorter variation of his rifle, Blush. Viridian dodged more conventionally, sprinting and rolling in order to avoid the hail of bullets her opponent was launching at her with each only missing thanks to her intuition and carefully timed evasions. She managed to completely round the arena contained within the encirclement of the White Fang, retrieving her sword mid-sprint and spun into a defensive stance as Adam continued to unload round after round that she blocked, severed in half, or deflected away from her. Adam slowly, methodically, advanced. Every step reducing the distance between them and Viridian inwardly cursed after having momentarily gaining her thoughts back for herself, realising in blocking the bullets being hailed in her direction she was unable to maintain the distance between them or press the Faunus at risk of her aura finally giving out and suffering a permanent injury or worse. 

Adam brought his sword down with Viridian only able to block it over her right shoulder at the final second, both swords shaking from the tension and struggle of strength from both combatants. Viridian noticed out of her peripheral Adam was moving Blush to Viridian’s head to potentially end the girl, once and for all. She barged his hand with her shoulder, only for Adam to push down with more weight and force on the two clashing blades located above the other shoulder with Viridian’s own blade sinking several inches into her body. Viridian yelped out in agony again, the same pain as before exploding from her shoulder in place of her hands, forcing her to drop down to her knees, trying with all her might to push her own blade out before it sliced through bone. The problem at hand, however, was that she knew it would be worse than just bone being broken or cleanly sliced because her blade wasn’t mean to cut bone. It was purposefully designed to slip between bone and strike between the minutest of gaps in armour. Best case scenario was the bone would be strong enough to withstand her weapon, worst case would be the sword shattering inside of her and the shrapnel causing all forms of untold damage. Tears formed in her eyes as Adam kept pushing harder, a frenzied smile streaking across his face as the smaller woman suffered from her flesh being split by her own weaponry.

Viridian located an impassive Silver, face doing its best not to betray his artificial calm and be replaced by the fear and concern that was no doubt flooding his mind at the idea that Viridian could be defeated for once. His hands were clasped onto the fabric of his fleece, so tight his hands were quaking as the uneasiness built up into dread.

“Viridian! For Dust’s sake! Stop playing around! Activate your damned powers!” Silver yelled impatiently, and the girl he loved gulped. 

Her eyes beginning to widen as Aura exploded out around them in the shape of purple flames. Deep and thick smoke of purest lavender exploded and surged like a tremendous wind blew through the forest, the sky gained a darker hue more reminiscent of the purple glow emanating around Viridian’s silhouette with the airborne dust blocking all light exiting or entering her smokescreen. Slowly, methodically so, the dust began to settle and a wispy aura of lilac gently encircled her entire physique, the moon’s light focused entirely on her: one shattered being to another. 

An invisible force flung Adam harmfully away from Viridian, with the Faunus leader rolling and eventually landing in the centre of the artificial arena his men had set up with a pained grunt. 

Aura manifested itself over Viridian’s shoulder, surging into the wound immediately and the wound closed around her shoulder, blood coating around the fresh skin but once again lacking any signs her own sword had been used to cleave it open.

“I am Viridian Aurora! Maiden of Summer and a ray of frenetic light to all those seeking hope whom are born unto the darkness! You will fear the Summer’s Dawn, or die knowing its wrath!” Viridian uttered in a guttural and impassioned scream erupted from within her.

With her newfound burst of strength, Viridian raised her hands, and light instantly filtered into the shape of a recurve bow. The light shattered and dissipated in the wind, leaving behind a recurve bow without a bow string attached between the two limbs, instead having two small circular vents on the inside of each limb of the bow. The inside was purely white, stylised with depictions of the sun, trees, grass and meadows. The outside of the bow contrasted this with a metal layering and a leather grip around the centre. Finally, two small hook-blades adorned the top and bottom limb of the bow.

“Silver…” Red said, alarmed by the burning purple aura surrounding Viridian’s eyes, knowing full-well if the Summer Maiden wanted the entire area around her could be annihilated with little effort if she allowed herself to give into the temptations that raced around her mind.

“I know.” He said regretfully, his own train of thought mirroring Red’s. “But we need her to use it either way, in case Adam’s men decide to avenge their Master.” Silver justified, but Red kept her hands on either of her revolvers, shifting her weight in at being so overwrought with tension.

“I’ve never had the chance to see her use the Maiden’s powers before.” Raven stated matter-of-factly, arms folded and appearing to be taking everything all too easily in her stride. “She seems…different. More harmonious and tranquil.”

“It’s just a front. Those powers after time meld with her psychosis. Eventually, it all comes spiralling back into insanity. Much worse than ever before.” Silver explained, expression impassive once more as he observed his lover.

“We try not to make it a regular occurrence. Otherwise Salem wouldn’t be the biggest threat on Remnant.” Linen said, a degree of flatness to his tone but some humour did manage to trickle in darkly “Nothing worse than an obsessive psychopathic 18-year-old girl with deity-like powers.”

“Except for an obsessive psychopathic 18-year-old girl with schizophrenia and deity-like powers.” Red corrected and Linen acknowledge the point with a throaty chuckle and a nod. “She’s the muscle all-right…”

“With someone so unstable, how do you build a romance around that?” Raven asked, there was a level of respect for Silver’s privacy as she asked the question, but curiosity remained prevalent. The wolf-faunas kept his eyes trained on Viridian as she started moving the bow into a firing stance along with her body like she was prepared to draw the bow, despite the lack of arrows or string. He looked detached and aloof. His mouth curving into a slight smile as he watched her.

“We grew up together. She was so terrified of what the voices inside her skull demanded of her. She’s so strong to keep moving forward despite that. She won’t give up. Viridian always relied on me more than anyone for help, we bonded and grew close. When you’re around someone for that long, you begin to appreciate them for all they are. I guess I don’t really focus or care about her issues so much as I do her strengths. Her insanity, if you wanted to be so blasé about being accurate, is something to feel concern over but not fear or be shied away from. She is more than the issues that dwell within her. They don’t define her, only when you see her on an intimate level would you ever understand.” Silver chuckled and shrugged “That being said, it’s not like it’s a paradise. We have our arguments and problems, mainly stemming from her problems.”

Viridian started drawing back on the bow despite the lack of arrow currently within her hand and the absent bow string on which to pull back with the non-existent arrow. She merely made the motion to do so, and the vents at either limb’s end started flaring and shooting out purple aura in the shape and motion of flames, connecting to form a bow string. The same fiery lavender aura rippled and manifested from her palm, shaping itself into an arrow, cinders of aura rising into the air off the tip of said arrow. A grin plastered her lips. She bit down in anticipation for the ensuing wrath or her extraordinary power. She released the arrow, the air around it screaming as it burst forward with a velocity unmatched by even the rapidest of automatic armaments. Adam had fast reactions however, managing to bend his body around the trajectory of the arrow, but it came within a hairs width of striking him, burning a line in his jacket, ripping it apart, from just the mere touch. The colossal heat and overwhelming force of the projectile sent Adam stumbling, falling onto his hands and knees. 

Adam heard a gasp, looking to see the arrow lodged in the chest of one of his men. Blood was only just beginning to accompany his groans of pain before the arrow detonated, a huge violet explosion pluming well into the sky above, ascending at least thirty metres, wiping out swaths of White Fang grunts and officers in an instant. Their forms barely had the opportunity to react, being completely absorbed in the purple flash and bright orange fires that erupted beneath the billowing smoke.

“Huh…Linen! How many did I kill?” Viridian asked cheerfully. Linen analysed the remaining soldiers around them, as their lines broke from fear, what resolve or morale they had left dissipating like the smoke in the air from Viridian’s attack.

“About nineteen, give or take.” He estimated.

“69! Hey! That’s Red’s favourite position!” Viridian laughed maliciously at her own humour. Meanwhile, Red just conspicuously twirled her hair around her finger and cleared her throat in a blush as Linen and Silver looked towards her, Silver more out of humour and desire to hear an admittance to the accusation and Linen out of confusion.

“S-She’s not wrong.” Red confirmed, trying not to show her combination of her blush at it being admitted by Viridian who promised in strictest of confidence not to expose the secret, and her scowl at how angry she was at Viridian for choosing now all of times to mock her. “I once consoled her about…sexual urges. I had to give examples, didn’t I?” Linen sighed in relief, he had assumed it meant that Red had slept with Viridian which was a disconcerting thought. They were sisterly, and despite Viridian sometimes deciding to following Red around, like she was baby duck chasing after it’s mother, whenever Silver wasn’t around, he had hoped and prayed Red wouldn’t corrupt Viridian with a similar variety of thought to her own. Even Linen had to admit it while it was a trait he liked in his lover, it wasn’t one he wanted passed on to others. Counterintuitively, Viridian could be quite innocent for a psychotic killer. 

“I’m just going to pretend I heard none of that.” Raven muttered under her breath. Team SLVR may have been experienced mercenaries barely out of their teens, but they were still young and she understood their immature nature. It wasn’t as if Summer, Tai and her were the purest at their ages. Well, Summer had been, but that’s what made her adorable.

“So, 69 of your guys have been killed by me, Adam. Want to make it an even 70?” She glared, devilishly. Without hesitation or pausing to offer a rebuttal, Adam pulled out Blush and started firing unremittingly at Viridian. The Maiden simply rose her hand, the bullets bouncing off harmlessly thanks to the amplified defensive capabilities of her new reserves of aura aroused by her Maiden powers. Viridian sauntered towards Adam, blocking every single shot, the only test she faced was her reactions times to move her hand to wherever Adam shot, but even so it proved a trivial concern as she arrived only a few feet ahead of the Faunus. 

Adam swung his sword, changing to a melee attack due to her proximity, glowing with his semblance, having saved up the power since the beginning of their battle. Adam’s semblance was of course the ability to store energy and release it in a single, devastating wave. In one final attempt to defeat the Maiden, Adam struck with his blade in a horizontal arc of his sword. However, Viridian caught his blade in her hand, shattering it at the mid-section. 

Adam dropped the handle of his now defunct sword in complete shock, somehow this human he was facing managed to completely either absorb or ignore his most powerful strike, stored with her own power. It was the stuff of nightmares: a remorseless, cold, incomprehensibly powerful maniac. His hands shook with palpable fear that even his mask failed to hide. 

Viridian twirled and stabbed Adam to the left of his stomach with the hook-blades of her Bow, before ripping them out and subsequently kneeing him in the freshly opened wound. Adam gagged on the pain, toppling over onto his back, gasping at the anguish coursing through his body. Viridian placed her foot onto his throat, eyes glowing with the amethyst aura burning around them. Her pupils dilated with insanity and pleasure. 

“End of the line. Thanks for playing, though.” Viridian began to pull back on her bow, purple energy igniting like once before as she slowly drew back. Adam desperately grabbed for Blush, loading it with a new magazine of Dust rounds and aimed it at Viridian who just rolled her eyes, his resistance nothing more than a slight irritation. Like Adam was some itch she couldn’t quite reach. She brought her hand back up after releasing her bow without properly gathering enough energy to fire it. The bow did take some time to store up enough power to fire, so she’d just have to either wait or take it slowly. She had decided to end it quickly, but if this was the way Adam wanted to go out, without dignity as he fumbled like a klutz, then that was fine with her. “Don’t you get it? It’s useless. Just give up and die.”

Adam fired through gritted teeth, and Viridian’s aura completely depleted at the first shot. Her mouth wide and without waiting for whatever expletive or stunned inquiry Viridian was going to voice, Adam shot again, the bullet barrelling through the centre of her hand. The Maiden screamed in pain, stumbling back, clutching her bloody and hole-filled hand. Whimpering in disbelief, her wide eyes emphasising the fact. 

“Aura dampening rounds…” Adam smirked, as he aimed the weapon at her head. “Thank Cinder, for that one. And thank me, for this one!” He went to pull the trigger, only for something to grasp his hand, raising it to the sky and discharging the weapon. Adam looked ahead to see Silver grasping his hand tight around his wrist. The Wolf was growling in the back of his throat, an animalistic snarl less human than ever before. 

He had seen enough of Viridian being hurt, he could barely stand her mental state devolving as far as it had, but he had learnt to tolerate it for whatever it was worth. But Viridian suffering so much, and at risk of having her life be robbed had pushed him over the edge. Enough was enough. He ripped Blush from Adam’s hand after bending the Bull-faunas’ hand at a sickening angle, theatrically arcing the rifle down to shoot Adam in the face, the first-round cracking and severing his mask in half, before he tossed the gun unceremoniously into the grass below and slammed his hand onto Adam’s neck, gripping so tightly the man below him began to choke at his airway being restricted. His hands shot up and helplessly flailed in the air before feebly grabbing hold of the powerful limb suffocating him, only helping to punctuate his helplessness whilst Silver maintained his grasp, gun-metal eyes devoid of mercy. 

"That's crossing the line! As long as I'm still breathing I won't let anyone touch her. You understand? Nobody!" Silver snarled, his hand squeezing down around Adam's neck whilst he fought helplessly for any reprieve from the wolf's powerful grasp, nails clawing helplessly at Silver's hand. "You've gambled your last, Adam. You messed with the wrong people. My people." A wicked and toothy grin spread across Silver’s face as Adam’s eyes shrunk in fear, knowing he was completely at Silver’s lack of mercy, whilst a bright orange glow emanated from Silver’s dust-infused combat gloves “Guess somebody else will have to save our people. Don't know who or when, but I do know this: It won't be you.” The fire immediately burst from within his clutch, completely disintegrating everything above Adam’s shoulders, his broken mask resting upon the pile of ash that had once been his head, his screams cut off at the pass before they had even been vocalised, the once heralded and feared leader of the White Fang's Chapter within Vale reduced to an inconsequential pile. 

The White Fang were astonished. Somehow, in an implausible way, their leader had been slayed. His life taken after a brutal and gruelling battle in the swiftest and horrifically savage execution possible. All of them dropped their weaponry, screaming in terror and dispersing randomly, their courage and morale vanishing along with their leader’s flame of existence. Raven strolled over to Adam’s corpse, admiring her soldiers of fortune’s handiwork. Bending down, she picked up the two shattered pieces of his mask and pocketed them for a keepsake and trophy of finally destroying the leadership of Vale’s White Fang.

“Fucking bastard.” Silver snarled angrily as blood pooled beneath Adam. He turned to see Viridian, shaking with pain as her plasma flowed down her hand and arm, staining her once pure-white dress shirt. Silver grabbed her tight, lowering Viridian to the ground as he cradled her small and slender physique in his arms. She was struggling to control her breathing, her chest rising and falling violently. He sensed Viridian clutching at the back of his fleece, the blood from her hand soaking into it as she somehow managed to clasp onto him despite the damage certainly afflicted upon the tendons and bones in her appendage that should have been preventing her from doing so. She nuzzled his chest and began muttering. What he expected to be fear and pain, sounded akin to relief and respite. “Viridian?” He coaxed her, careful and sounding as tender as he could.

“They’ve stopped. I can’t hear the voices. They’re quiet.” Viridian smiled at the rare serenity, her head resting over his heart “I can only hear your beating heart…” she said dreamily, sweetly. He smiled, the psychosis being dimmed and cast aside as Viridian was alleviated of her psychosomatic symptoms. She sounded at peace, a special instance of clarity for the Maiden. 

“That’s good.” He stroked her hair, rocking her back and forth. “Don’t scare me like that again. You’re too reckless, Viridian. Don’t go and get yourself killed before me.” Silver begged without confidence or assurance, his voice came out like a whine with tears stinging his eyes. He could feel the motion of his lover’s head acquiescing to the appeal.

“Only if…you promise it’s together or not at all. Because,” Viridian swallowed, embarrassment from the knowledge she was bearing her soul to Silver, swirling with the pain from grasping so tightly despite the intolerable pain burning from what used to be the centre of her hand. “I don’t want to be without you for a second, Silver…”

“Together. No matter what. Anything for you. I promise.” He kissed her head and looked up to the shattered moon, fingers fixating in the soft tresses of Viridian’s hair. “Anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the hype train of Viridian and it's conductor Silver comes into the station. Unfortunately, we hit a Bull on the way in. Oh well, these things happen. So, the summary then: 
> 
> Viridian is the Summer Maiden. I liked the idea of combining her chaotic personality with something that both contradicts that but can also be considered a parallel to it. She has indisputable and unimaginable power that is directly related to the season of the year synonymous with the pinnacle of life and serenity, yet it is incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands such as a girl with the thirst for blood and death.
> 
> Viridian definitely could have taken Adam. She just lacks discipline and conventional training. More often than not she doesn't need to try, really. 
> 
> Word of advice: Never insult Silver's girl. 
> 
> And yeah, Silver's weapon are dust-infused combat gloves that can outfit his attacks with different variants of said dust. I'm calling them the 'Claws of Fenrir' so maybe some Nordic crossover jokes can be made between him and Nora. Viridian has no set weapon, she makes what she wants in the given situation, but her bow is distinctly tied to her Maiden powers, I'd call it 'Summer's Dawn' since her last name translates to Dawn. And we naturally we get to see her Semblance: Atomic construction. The more complicated and larger the object the greater the level of aura and time it takes to make whatever she's making. 
> 
> The White Fang are now leaderless and scattered. It would appear as if Raven's gamble paid off.


	11. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team SLVR all deal with their Demons in their own ways.

Silver was awoken suddenly, sitting bolt upright within his own bed to the sounds of shattering glass, muffled and distant through the walls of his room. Instincts and self-preservation kicked into high-gear, he immediately searched for his lover on the other side of the bed. However, Viridian was nowhere to be found. Her half of their blankets had been discarded, leaving the mattress bare on her side and Silver with an additional layer of blanketing covering him with an almost obsessive neatness and care involved. 

Though Silver cared very little for that as a blood-curdling scream of a mix of pain and terror resonated from outside his own room, accompanying the shatter of glass almost immediately afterwards.  
Silver slid up to the wall next to the door into their room, noticing it was just slightly ajar. He methodically and judiciously inched it open a second at a time. He had no idea what had caused that scream, and whilst it was unmistakably Viridian’s voice, there was no telling as to if there could have been an intruder. It would have been counter-productive for Viridian and his own safety if he brazenly darted out of the room only to be blind-sided by a surprise attack from an assailant he hadn’t been prepared for. 

A quick scan of the room from the small opening in the door (thick enough just to stick his arm through) provided him with the information that the room was devoid of any life or potential adversaries. He relaxed his shoulders, the tension in his muscles melting away. There wasn’t any of the main lighting in the small apartment active currently, but even so his Faunus sight made it all too easy as to discern every object and potential movement as if it were the middle of the day. He noticed the soft glow poking out of Linen and Red’s room adjacent to his own, informing them they had the same plan, albeit taking the opportunity to provide some lighting so Linen wasn’t in the dark. Both figuratively and literally. Being a human and therefore devoid of Faunus abilities meant it was necessary. 

He saw the door creak open opposite him, Red poking her eye through the crack and scanning around before finally resting on her leader, who with a gentle motion of his hand indicated it was all clear. Silver punctuated this by stepping fully out of the room, only for the blare of a light catching his attention from the kitchenette. A small bulb hanging from the ceiling was buzzing and flickering, a sign of just how dilapidated and neglected the apartment complex truly was. 

Underneath the light by one of the counters was Viridian, broken shards of glass by her feet with the soft patter of blood dripping down around her feet and on the counter like it was intermittent and miniscule raindrops on a tin roof in a disturbing rhythmic pace. She was stood up, but hunched over in her white night-robe, stained crimson on its long sleeves. She shook, shoulders rolling back and forth as they were accompanied and mirrored by her gut-wrenching sobs that could rob life and happiness away from even the cruellest monsters that inhabited Remnant. She seemed so small and powerless, both her hands burying themselves within her hair and digging into her scalp.

“Shut up…shut up...” She repeated, whimpering, her voice growing angrier with each passing repetition of the phrase “JUST SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! LET ME BE!” She screamed, gagging and hiccupping on her screams and tears. Silver ran over and quickly enveloped Viridian in a tight embrace after being unable to stand watching her suffer along any longer. He did his best to offer soothing coos and struggled to bring a sense of serenity to the girl. 

Viridian hadn’t been aware of her surroundings, nor was she expecting to receive such an act of affection so suddenly, so she struggled and fought against him. She elbowed him as hard as possible, her pained and terrified gasps becoming more desperate until they toppled over in unison after colliding into a counter, Silver back first. He held onto her tight, not letting go for a single moment until she realised who was so ardently holding her. Viridian slowly, but certainly, began to calm down. Her breathing, although ragged and fractured with pathetic sobs eventually found a more consistent and healthy rhythm. She nuzzled his chest with her tears dropping onto his bare chest, marred with scars, and drying there. Powerful hands stroked through her hair, Silver ready and willing to comfort his lover as was necessary for her frenzied and shocked state to relent and allow her to start an effective dialogue so he could ascertain what exactly had happened. 

He felt the soft droplets of blood running down his pectoral from where Viridian’s hands were resting inertly. Her aura was doing decent preliminary job of fixing bone and muscle after she had been afforded time to rest, but it was still liable to tearing open and bleeding. Viridian’s reckless attitude and philosophy was not only concerning in the manner that she would happily throw her life away without any care, but also presented an issue while she was recovering because simply keeping an injured portion of her body motionless was a foreign concept to her, and not one she was willing to entertain. Because of this, she was more than willing to use her weakened hand and rip her stitches out, leaving a splotches of blood stains erratically spread over the apartment since they had arrived back earlier that night after finishing off the White Fang. 

Silver assumed the scream might have been from using her injured appendage, though it did leave some unanswered questions that he wasn’t in the mood to analyse at the current conjuncture. The only thing that was on his mind at that point was making sure Viridian was okay, explanations could come later.

“Viri,” Silver called softly and the girl nodded, barely. “You hurt your hand, huh?” she repeated the same confirmation as before and Silver exhaled through his nostrils out of expectance that she would probably do this at some point again. It wasn’t at all surprising, but it was certainly disappointing she had this self-destructive nature. “Okay. Can you stand?” He wanted to start off small, not push the girl too far. She was vulnerable and needy. 

“Yes…” her timid voice answered, and carefully Silver pulled her to her feet by her healthy hand before sitting her down at her chair at the small round table in the middle of the kitchenette area. She laid her hand down on the table for Silver to see: the bandaging was loose and both sides were stained with a splotch of dark crimson, the plasma trickling down her arm and digits respectively. He brought his middle and index finger to delicately run down her injured hand, appreciating the texture of her skin. She managed a minor smile at the inconsequential display of affection and Silver reciprocated. 

“Feel like telling me what happened?” he asked, and her eyes trailed off and away from him, fixating on the counter to her side. “Viridian. Please.” He requested and her shoulders sagged a little in response before sighing. 

“I wanted to get a glass of water.” She began, sitting up straight as she looked at him, a little more confidence growing in her the longer they simply shared in each-other’s presence. “When I went to grab the glass I…” she gulped, her fears returning to the surface “Could hear the voices. They told me I deserved to suffer for my mistakes at not killing Adam myself…” her voice was becoming more distant, emotion draining out of it as she shut her eyes tight at some abstract pain plaguing her. “I-I…s-shattered the glass in my hand as punishment…oh god…” her hands shot back up to her head, beating it mildly hard out of frustration, her face whimpering whenever her injured hand connected with her cranium “SHUT UP! Leave me alone!” She begged, as Silver rushed over and rubbed Viridian’s back reassuringly, as the girl had an argument all by herself, perpetually switching between pleading and demanding silence from the dissonance of voices inside of her. 

“Is it more painful than normal?” He asked, aware that Viridian usually went through headaches and migraines when the voices pestered her enough

“No. Only…mildly irritating.” Viridian seethed through gritted teeth as she finally relaxed her hands, letting them settle on her lap. “I’m fine. It’s more irritable than anything…” She sucked on her bottom lip in thought before her emerald orbs met the gaze of Silver disks. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Silver asked, his voice still quiet but curiously inquisitive as he raised an eyebrow.

“Because I didn’t wait for you. I…was weak. I listened to the voices. They were just so loud and angry, and I just wanted it to end and…” Silver cut off Viridian’s self-pitying rambling by kissing her, the girl not wasting a second to kiss back once she was aware what he was doing, his hands moving up into her hair and holding her close to himself while hers wrapped around her lover’s neck.

“Don’t you dare ever call my Viridian weak. You’re the strongest person I know.” Viridian was taken aback, not expecting the interruption after their lips had locked nor the theatrical compliment he paid her. “In case it was lost on you let me you inform you why you’re so strong.” He began, a teasing but excited mirth spreading over himself. He enjoyed the rare circumstances where he and Viridian could just sit and flirt, and even more so when he could compliment her and make Viridian understand just how important she was to him.

“You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you…?” she said resignedly upon recognising nothing would stop Silver once he had started. 

“Maliciously difficult.” He winked “You were born in circumstances as tough as me, Linen and Red. But despite that, you survived all by yourself even with all of that pain. We always had each-other but you were alone before we all met. You had to live with all these voices inside of you, compelling you to do horrible things and you still marched onwards. You have the powers of one of the legendary Maidens, and you’re not half-bad with a sword when you try.” Viridian chuckled at the comment, she was a practitioner at best and at worst could only be accurately described as gesticulating wildly. “Viri. I will always love you for who you are. Faults and all. But the one thing I can never honestly say about you is that you are weak whether it’s with courage or physicality.” She shook her head, smiling, kissing his lips chaste. 

“You’re a fool, Silver Aloi. You could have any woman in the world and yet, you settled for a broken psychopath.” 

“Well, it’s not like I’m the most well-adjusted person either.” Silver smirked, as they shared another kiss.

“I guess together we make one barely functional person?”

“Aww, Viri, you know just how to make a guy blush.” They shared a short laugh together, a genuine smile streaking across Viridian’s face, and it warmed Silver’s heart. They had been through so much together and done so many awful things that society would not only condemn but despise them for. He knew it was far too late for a happy ending but maybe-just maybe-they could keep sharing the odd smile and moment of pure hearted romance that it made all their anguish worth it. Silver eventually stood back up and went in search of the first aid kit they kept stationed within the kitchen just in case emergencies required such an appropriate reaction. He opened the cabinets positioned along the wall that was just around his own 6-foot height.

Viridian’s eyes latched onto the scarring streaking across his right shoulder down to the left side abdomen in one unequivocal pattern. War-wounds Silver had received protecting Viridian from an Ursa on one of her chaotic moments of suicidal irrationality. Guilt flared with lustful thoughts as Silver’s muscles strained against his lithe and attractive back. She shook her head until the thoughts relented and her blush had rescinded. Silver rarely touched her in such a way, and Viridian didn’t blame him from keeping his distance. When a Faunus indulged themselves in sexual activity their self-control became second place to their primal urges and Silver, for all of his internal fortitude, was of no exception to this. He was a well-built and strong man even with a slimmer physique then one would naturally assume, he made it a point to not become overly stocky or clad in muscles so it didn’t affect his athleticism. Regardless, it meant he contained the strength to man-handle Viridian and when they had been both young and naïve towards Faunus sexual habits they had made the mistake during their discarding of their virginial status. Viridian had been harmed only superficially, but it was Silver who came out of it the worst, growing enraged and relentlessly blamed himself for the incident. Viridian didn’t consider him culpable however, and she lacked the proper empathetic ability in the past to understand why Silver regretted it so much. She didn’t particularly comprehend social cues, and even now certain things like sarcasm and social expectations bewildered her, even when she did understand what to do. In any case, Viridian and Silver saved their intimacy for very rare occasions when Silver could trust himself not to give into his instincts, but even so it didn’t stop Viridian from appreciating the observable ripple and contraction of her lover’s muscles.

Silver eventually retrieved a white and green first-aid box with a white cross on a green circular background. He slid open the angular lid on both sides and began pilfering through the contents, retrieving a number of items ranging from fresh bandaging to antiseptic to disinfect the wound, tweezers to pull the shards of glass out as well as a needle and fabric to stitch closed the wound. He gestured for her hand, and initially Viridian winced at the coming pain she was going to experience, but complied, and Silver took her fingers in his own with a delicate touch to steady her hand while beginning to remove the old bandaging. 

“Don’t be such a big baby.” He teased, eyes transfixed on her hand making sure not to apply too much pressure. Viridian pouted, opting not to give him the satisfaction of a vocal response. 

“Silver?” Viridian asked as he balled up the bloody and old bandages and threw them into the bin behind him before gesturing for her to turn her hand over so the palm was facing towards the ceiling. 

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking…” Viridian began before hissing in pain as Silver sprayed some of the antiseptic spray over her wound; now only visible on the palm of her hand even if the flesh was still caved inwards and dyed a deathly white. “Mother fucker!” 

“Language.” Silver smirked during his reprimand before he kissed her knuckles as a small form of compensation. “You were saying?”

“The Huntress who hurt you. I really want to kill her.” Viridian’s eyes shifted to a glazed expression, becoming half-lidded and distant. 

“Viri. Relax. It was just some bruising. Compared with what you got yesterday, I got off pretty light.” Her eyes narrowed and he sighed “You’re going to be unquestionably stubborn, aren’t you?” he brought the thread through the needle and tapped the skin next to her long slit of a wound “Ready?” he asked and Viridian’s countenance eased away from her unsettling expression before she grimaced once more in preparation of the coming pain. 

“Yes. And yes.” She scowled and groaned as Silver dipped the needle into her skin and began knitting her wound closed manually, taking his time to make sure it was tight and to not leave a larger gap than necessary. The last time he performed surgery on Viridian he had rushed the job simply to close the wound as quickly as possible and as a result, regardless of how cautious Viridian was with using her hand, it was always going to bleed. This time that would be avoided, hopefully. He continued tending to her wounds, sitting in perfect silence, but without harmony. Tension sat in the air between them, and they both understood why. This conversation had been argued and debated numerous times, but it never got any easier for them to have. Viridian was a very stubborn person, but Silver equally would never budge from his principles. When he mentioned to Raven that their relationship wasn’t paradise he truly meant it, arguments were plentiful over Viridian wanting to kill somebody. It was difficult to convince Viridian not to do something that in her mind was as normal as drinking a glass of water. 

Eventually, Silver finished the procedure and Viridian’s hand was tightly wrapped in a new layering of bandages. She brought it up to her face an inspected it, choosing to not test how tight it was or how flexible it was after the injury. Viridian wasn’t incapable of learning from her mistakes, just unwilling or impatient. When you had a semblance to create anything your imagination could think up and a large supply of aura to make it reality, anything except for instant gratification was worthless to Viridian. 

Silver gathered up the bloody and broken shards of glass that had been trapped in his lover’s skin and deposited them into the bin before sitting down ahead of Viridian again, hands clasped together as he considered what to say, Viridian waiting as patiently as she was capable of.

“No.” Was the answer Viridian was instantly given, and it definitely was not what she wanted to hear. She didn’t express her rage directly at Silver, she was usually more passive-aggressive and she displayed this trait by casting her gaze out to her peripheral as she grounded her teeth back and forth. 

“I want to.” She bit back, childishly.

“You can’t. It was my fault. I went into that Black-site without a pair of eyes watching my back. I got discovered and the Huntresses just happened to give chase. They were doing their jobs, just as I was.”

“They hurt you!”

“And I hurt them right back!” He shouted, pushing up from the table. “We don’t hurt innocents, Viridian. They’re huntresses, the real heroes. We just do the things they shouldn’t have to do. There’s no reason they have to live with those nightmares.”

“So, am I just meant to let it go?” Viridian said with bitterness, but also inquisition. She regularly lost their arguments mainly because Silver was who she relied on for a sense of humanity and righteousness. She wanted to be like him, but it was so absurd for someone with so many muddled and incoherent thoughts crossing over each-other to achieve her goal. It was trying for her to figure out the simplest of ordinary human responses.

“Yes, you are. We’d be no better than the bandits who killed your…” 

“Stop. Right. There.” Viridian seethed, her voice full of danger and eyes glowing with the humblest of lilac auras. Silver understood how close to the precipice he’d come by trying to bring up one of the few aspects and memories Viridian clung onto and maintained independence over. He knew she was warning him because she didn’t want to lose herself to rage, rather than because she refused to allow him the right to discuss the topic. The Wolf-Faunus slowly sat down and Viridian allowed herself to perform her breathing exercises, jurisdiction over her own faculties slowly returning, until she looked sympathetic. “Sorry.” She apologised.

“No, it’s my fault. Shouldn’t have brought it up.” Viridian wanted to say otherwise, but nodded in agreement. There wasn’t much to be argued there, both of them had let their emotions get the better of them in the heat of the moment. There was just certain topics neither of them liked to broach, and the topic Silver had intended was what Viridian would have considered the biggest transgression he could have committed.

They let the silence sit between them until murmurings came from the other side of the room, Silver’s ears flickering at the sudden, if low-level, noise. Viridian couldn’t prevent herself from giggling at the adorable nature of the animal set reacting like they did to sound his human half couldn’t pick up on.

“Is it Red?” She asked, moving her hand to her lips as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Yeah, she’s praying. “Oh Lord, please don’t let Viridian demolish the apartment.” She’s ridiculous.” Silver mocked, mimicking Red’s sultry and high-class tone.

“S-S-She n-needs to...g-get her priorities s-straight…” Viridian laughed between sentence fragments. 

“Hey! I’d like to get our security deposit back!” Silver slammed his fist down, full of amusement at their back and forth “Nobody would take Red as the religious type. Should probably stop deluding herself with the fake man in the sky…” Viridian frowned and leaned over to flick Silver’s forehead as a chastisement for the rude comment.

“Don’t be so mean! Everyone has the right to believe in what they want. We all…deal with our Demons differently.” Viridian censured blithely.

“All I’m saying is that she doesn’t strike me as the type to sit down in a confessional unless it’s on the Priest’s lap…” This earned him a soft punch to the arm, one he laughed heartily at, giving Viridian a wink as she struggled to keep her grin hidden beneath the artificial frown. 

“You’re a menace, Silver Aloi.”

“Yeah, but I’m your menace.”

 

Silver sat half-slumped over the front counter of a bar with several alcoholic beverages already dispensed and subsequently consumed in a short space of time. The establishment was very small, a similar size to the minute nature of the apartment he shared with the rest of team SLVR. It came as of very little surprise to anybody who lived in the region of Vale they did that buildings were so small for the poor and forgotten of society, after all it meant that there was less land to pay for and the bills would be smaller. Only about eight or nine patrons could sit within the tables scattered around the narrow Bar and eatery. It was located in the backstreets of the working-class section of Vale’s outermost residential district, mainly occupied by Faunus or humans who either harboured no ill-will to their part-animal colleagues or simply couldn’t afford to leave. In either case, upon entering Silver had received a few polite nods of recognition or monosyllabic greeting. Never much was exchanged between fellow patrons, it was only the middle of the day so those drinking were either trying to simply enjoy their rare time away from work or ignore their greater issues and dysfunctions by drowning their sorrows away in cheap drink. Silver himself was a combination of the two, over the past 24 hours he had stolen highly confidential plans, fought two Huntresses of Beacon Academy and practically eliminated the White Fang hierarchy of the Kingdom of Vale. 

Beyond the lack of sleep after having to tend to Viridian, he needed to unwind and try to ignore the near pathological scepticism in his head about Raven and what she was planning. He knew it was logical to doubt her, she was as mysterious as she was conniving and that simply didn’t sit well with him. But even so, he wanted to shut off his brain and dull his sense of mistrust. So far, he had knocked back four of the cheap and honestly disgusting substance that was insulting to call a drink, but it was certainly doing its job, the mild buzz he had been feeling was becoming a haze. Alcohol lowered inhibitions and moral judgement, which Silver concluded was because it affected body and soul since Semblances and aura were also dimmed and diminished upon drinking it. Silver was fine with that anyway, he wasn’t a very aggressive drunk, more of a talkative or depressive one. Depending on how many he had. Either way, it was unlikely he was going to get involved in a fight any time soon, so he should have been fine.

One thing had remained on his mind more than anything though, no matter how many drinks he consumed or how inebriated he became something always weighed heavily upon himself and could drive him mad. Viridian. Their argument, however short, was still at the forefront of his thoughts. Her entire reaction in the few hours preceding his drinking was still concerning him, she regularly committed self-harm and argued publicly with the many dissonant voices screaming at her, but it never made it easy to move past it or see that as normal. He regularly informed people her condition didn’t define her, and that was very true in a manner of speaking, but it certainly influenced her actions heavily. And when he was one of the only factors in the world that could provide her with a semblance of governance or continuity of thought then guilt tended to dominate his thinking for a brief time until he either drunk himself into oblivion or found some way to pull himself out of his stupor. His ears twitched at the familiar clack of heels on the stone slabbed surface leading up to the tavern, before he groaned and his ears drooped down on his head.

“Why are you here?” Silver said lethargically.

“And a good afternoon to you too.” Red deposited herself on the stool by the counter next to him, and made a motion for the bartender to fetch her a drink. “Well, don’t you look like crap?” Silver flipped her off before his arm fell limp by his side. She propped her chin up on her hand as she leant on the counter, looking at Silver with a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Just checking up on you. Making sure you don’t press the self-destruct button on your Liver like last time.”

“You’re exaggerating. I was only vomiting the last time.”

“For the whole night. Eight straight hours. That’s not healthy, boss.” 

Silver groaned and waved her off, pushing the half-drunk bottle of bear away from him as he rested his head on the cold and uncomfortably damp counter “Point taken. Feel free to cut me off.” He looked at her curiously “Where’s Viri and Linen?”

“Home. Linen is keeping an eye on her. When I left, she was still asleep, poor thing was very tired after the commotion last night.” Her smiled faded and she frowned “On the priest’s lap, huh?” Silver laughed sardonically, smacking the counter a few times to emphasise the humour in his own joke.

“You’ve gotta admit, it was pretty good.” Red scoffed, a small smile returning as she rolled her eyes. “All-right, much as I love having you hear to both mock me and remind me of my own lack of self-control when it comes to the Devil’s nectar, why are you here, Red?” Silver asked, more energy returning to his tone. 

“I was worried about you. You don’t deal with your demons very well.” Silver laughed dryly at the comment.

“Coming from the person who gets down on her knees to pray to a god who has probably condemned you to hell fifty times over?”

“Silver. Please. Don’t push me away like that.” Red pleaded, although it sounded more like a demand. 

“Red, I…” He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows to look slightly less pathetic. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude like that.”

Red smirked a little, rubbing up and down her friend’s arm reassuringly “Yes you do. You’re an ass.” She sipped from her own arriving beer “But I know you don’t mean anything by it. You’re a good guy, even if you’re insufferable.”

“What’s up with all these backhanded compliments I’m getting lately?” Silver complained, though his tone betrayed him with its positive nature. 

“Seriously though. I’d prefer it if my brother didn’t try to kill himself with distilled poison because he feels guilty about Viridian.”

“Am I that predictable now?”

“Silver.” The Wolf finally made eye contact with Red as he knew their conversation was headed to the serious region he was hoping to avoid. Perhaps it would have been easier if he was in control of his faculties “Stop blaming yourself. You aren’t in control of every little detail of our lives. You can’t blame yourself when Viridian gives in to those tormenting voices.”

“Gee, what an inspiring pep talk, thanks, Red.”

“I’m not finished.” Red sounded irritable so Silver made a mental note to shut up. “What’s important isn’t when Viridian gives in, and we have to watch her suffer or when we can’t do anything to prevent it. What’s important is when we’re there to help her. She needs people around her to remind her she’s loved and to help her back onto her feet whenever she stumbles. You already keep her so well balanced, a small failure doesn’t change just how amazing you are for her. So instead of this little pity party you’re throwing for yourself, sober up and get back home so when she wakes up we can all be there for her.”

Red had an annoying trait of being incredibly logical and deeply philosophical when required of her. She was like the matriarch of the group, maternal and protective. Silver was always sceptical and overly analytical to the point whenever had made a mistake he would excessively blame himself, but Red was a little less complicated. She saw the world in a more practical light and thought of things as more of an aggregate or good and bad rather than individualist consequences. If someone did more good deeds than bad, then you did good. The overall mattered more than the individual, so to speak whereas Silver focused too much on the case by case issues that cropped up. She was an effective foil to him, and helped him understand his own follies at times. He couldn’t exactly tell her she was wrong either, Viridian was better off because of him, even if she did still harm herself and fall victim to the machinations of the dark thoughts within her. 

“You’re annoying when you’re right, you know? Can’t you leave that to Linen?” Silver grumbled light-heartedly.

“Sorry, he rubs off on me.” She jested.

“I don’t really want to know how he rubs you off, thanks.” Silver quipped back.

“Very funny, Wolfy. Go howl at the moon.”

“Wow, discrimination much? You sound just like those Human-supremacist movements.” Silver recalled from their childhood the numerous groups that would march against the civil rights movements of the Faunus like the White Fang when it was purely peaceful and the sympathetic movements led by humans to lobby governments for the equal treatments of their peoples. Often times violence broke out, and if not you could be assured that racism and derogatory insults were hurled at the usually peaceful Faunus and their allies.

“Yeah, right, like they ever had the braincells to string together a coherent insult.” Red replied. 

“Eh, I dunno. They had some catchy protest songs.” Red waved Silver off with a gesture of her hand after he had finished.

“We’re getting off topic. Look, we’re a family. Four siblings. Four incredibly broken and deranged people who do their best to support each-other. Sometimes we fail, and sometimes we succeed. But we can never blame ourselves for our own shortcomings. My problems, Linen’s problems, Viridian’s problems, hell, even your own, we can’t feel personal guilt for that. It’s the worst thing we can do. But what we can do is make sure we have the support of everyone else to remind us we aren’t alone, and our Demons won’t control us. Our family will always look after us, and cannot be taken from us.” She drew her arms around Silver, who reluctantly at first but eventually found himself reciprocating in a similar capacity, in an embrace. 

“Red…thanks.” Silver said softly as Red’s hands ran through his hair soothingly. Red was a complicated person, or so Silver had concluded long ago anyway. She was a sexually liberated, confident Faunus with a deep philosophical outlook and maternal instincts with a very sultry nature about herself. She was confusing, but she was like a sister to him. She couldn’t be defined easily, and she never fit into a specific category. But that’s what he loved about her, she was her own person. She wrote her own destiny.

“Don’t get too used to it, Wolfy. Wouldn’t want people thinking I like you or anything.”

 

Silver was walking down the street after having left Red to finish her own drink, having informed her they would reconvene later in their apartment. For the time being, he planned on walking around the commercial district of Vale simply to alleviate himself of his inebriated state so when he returned Viridian would only have to put up with the smell of alcohol at the worst, and nothing more. He was slightly concerned about the roaming police potentially recognising him, no doubt the Huntresses would have informed the authorities about his identity or appearance at the least. But in his drunkenly ways, he had pushed the thought to the back of his mind and shrugged it off, it was unlikely they had a good enough recollection to get an accurate depiction of him anyway. 

Eventually, he came across a familiar building, one story in height and insipidly named in a terrible pun after such. Silver recognised it as the covert alias that Raven used for her operations within Vale. He had no intention of talking to her right now, but it was amusing how their paths always seemed to cross unintentionally. The bell to the store rung as the door opened, no doubt a patron departing the building after having purveyed the goods within. 

A blonde woman, eyes burning crimson with a distinct look of rage simmering within them and a smaller girl with ivory hair pulled into an off-centre pony-tail stood right in front of Silver as he awkwardly stared at them. He didn’t know why, they were both attractive certainly, but there wasn’t a reason to be so insistent on holding eye contact with the obviously enraged blonde and slightly cowering snow-haired woman behind her. Until he realised she was familiar, as the blonde’s eyes went wide, and then narrowed at him. 

“You!” The blonde screamed, Silver recognising her as one of the two huntresses from the previous day’s altercations. He sighed, defeatedly. 

“Just my fucking luck…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading the latest update, I hope you enjoyed it. We'll be back to Yang and Weiss in the next chapter.
> 
> Little bit of background on team SLVR. Silver treats Viridian like she's a priceless vase. Or a broken vase with a semantic attachment to it. 
> 
> Red isn't all sex and flirting. She's smart and wise beyond her years, she's just not afraid to take what she wants and live lift to its fullest regardless of labels people give her.
> 
> Viridian has a tragic story, if that wasn't obvious enough. More tragic than Silver, Red and Linen combined. It'll be explained, soon enough.
> 
> And yeah, Silver can't catch a break. Poor guy. At least he's the only main perspective character to have won a fight. So there's that.


	12. On the Road, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Weiss flirt, before heading off to meet Raven.

Weiss and Yang were located within team RWBY's dorm room, with the Blonde sat on the edge of Weiss' bed whilst Weiss herself was observing herself in the mirror as she attended to her hair. Blake and Ruby had already left by this point, giving the couple plenty of time to prepare themselves for what was undoubtedly a life-changing event. Ruby had been quietly supportive of her sister, knowing first-hand just how far Yang was willing to go to figure out the truth of her Mother. Blake had been surprisingly emotive, tightly grasping Yang in a hug and wishing her the best. It wasn't unwelcome, though Yang herself knew very little about what the luck was directed towards. An amicable relationship? It was the dream, but rarely did dreams become reality.

Weiss frantically ran her hands through her hair, repeatedly she would direct her long ivory tresses through her tiara in her off-centre pony-tail, stopping once it was in place to inspect how she looked in the mirror. However, every time she would scorn and mutter a plethora of obscenities at the tiniest infraction that in anyway made her look anything but perfect. She endlessly recited the mantra to herself that she absolutely had to be perfect and nothing else would be acceptable. Once more, she pulled her tiara off and flung her hair so it cascaded down her back perfectly straight and began to attempt the almost futile task of making her look Schnee-levels of presentable. Weiss wasn’t blind to the fact that the only reason she wasn’t satisfied with the plebeian task of attending to one’s hair was only because of her nerves getting the better of her. 

Ironically, she was probably handling the information that she was about to meet Yang’s Mother worse than the blonde was. Yang had, after managing to get some much-required sleep, simply shrugged off the notion that she should be nervous about meeting the woman for an actual conversation and sit down, regardless of how formal or informal the procedure would play out. That’s not to say Yang was her regular effervescent and entertaining by any stretch of the imagination, it was clear she was simulating the conversation any potential number of ways so as to prepare herself. Yang wasn’t always the most eloquent or articulate in expressing herself and when combined with her brash attitude she could come off very strong and sometimes a little insulting. Perhaps even patronising or ignorant, which was not at all reflective of Yang’s intention. She only lacked the patience and perhaps etiquette to properly express herself properly, but Weiss could help compensate for that a little.  
Weiss on the other hand was in the midst of stage one of 74 of the ‘Weiss Schnee guide to driving yourself insane through worry’. Whilst Yang absent-mindedly twirled strands of her long and wild man around her finger as she lost herself in her thoughts, Weiss systematically targeted every stray hair or wrinkle or crease in her outfit as an insult against her honour and began to correct them in an attempt, however unlikely it was, to reach an acceptable level of presentation for such a rare and important occasion. 

It was one thing to meet an Uncle, one of particularly poor manners even if he had been a surprising delight for Weiss, but it was an entirely different concept to meet her lover’s estranged Mother. She considered that there might not be a proper protocol on how to act on or adopt the situation. With Qrow, Weiss had a degree of reference through meeting him back at the Vytal festival and of course Yang herself provided plenty of explanation on what he was like in general, but this wasn’t the case with Raven. All she had was some of the passive-aggressive comments Yang had made about her Mother in the past and the foreboding manner in which Qrow had discussed Yang’s Mother. Not exactly a picture-perfect scenario Weiss could study or prepare for.

She supposed this is one of the situations that Klein had informed her about where you could only experience something through actually living life and not burying your head in a textbook. Weiss sighed and began to pull her hair through her tiara once more as she heard the rhythm of Yang’s foot tapping at the ground below her pick up pace out of impatience. 

“Are you done yet?” Yang probably didn’t mean to sound so demanding or dismissive of Weiss’ own apprehension as she did, but the whole protracted way in which Weiss was attending to her hair was wearing thin on Yang’s last nerve, not that she had many of those anyway. It annoyed her, she thought Weiss was beautiful by default and no matter how many times Weiss repeated the activity she always remained ridiculously beautiful and radiant to her, so it shouldn’t have to be done more than the once. She understood Weiss was a superficial girl, Yang would have been too if she was raised in such a strict way as Weiss had been, where presentation and perfection were expectations rather than goals. For Weiss, everything had to be neat and in order simply out of ingrained habit. The one aspect of her entire being that contrasted this was her pony-tail, the one shred of evidence Weiss still retained a rebellious and fiercely independent spirit. Yang understood the rational and thinking behind why Weiss was the way she was, but couldn’t understand why she refused to simply break free and run wild with that defiant attitude on a more grandiose scale. She was sure fear played an important part in Weiss’ reluctance to properly run free and escape the shadow of the Schnee name and most importantly, her Father, but it was still hard to comprehend how Weiss could still be so excessive in her maintenance in contrast to Yang’s own undisciplined and uncontrollable self.

“Nearly, I promise.” Weiss said though from the vexed expression on her face it was less than convincing. Weiss was nowhere near prepared, her white jacket still laid across the back of the chair next to the desk, leaving the heiress in her white dress that left her upper back completely bare. Yang fixed her gaze on the small and slim back. So, delicate and yet exquisite to look at. The outfit always perplexed Yang because of the obvious lack of cover it provided for Weiss, but the same could be said of any aspect of Yang’s own attire. Yang walked over with her gaze fully centred on Weiss’ small back, reaching out with her index and middle fingers to stroke the small bulge of Weiss’ spine. “Y-Yah!” Weiss yelped at the unexpected touch of Yang and the warmth that radiated off of it. Even with that warmth, Weiss couldn’t help but to shiver at Yang’s touch, a blush spreading across herself as she turned around with irritated but curious look to see the blank smile Yang was providing her with. It was the kind of smile Yang had when she wasn’t in her brightest mood, but still felt a sense of positivity. Sometimes it appeared to reassure, but if that was the intended effect it failed as Weiss only felt sympathetic to whatever was upsetting her lover. 

“Damn, baby got back~” Yang kidded with her terrible sense of humour, pulling out lyrics from a song that Weiss wouldn’t be caught dead listening to as well as to the highly-esteemed member of the Schnee family; sounding like an affront to music itself. Regardless, the pun did somewhat tickle her. “You really put your back into being pretty.” She continued, looking continuously more amused and more Yang-like, as annoying as that could be of course.

“Y-Yang, please do not tease me, this is an important process for…” Weiss began to lecture, although whatever intimidating tone was meant to dominate her tone came out like the squeak of a mouse.  
Yang’s hands ran through Weiss’ hair, massaging the ivory streaks into place as she ran them through her fingertips. Weiss was wide-eyed in awe at the gentle and dexterous way Yang was attending to her hair. Yang began to run Weiss’ hair through the tiara one last time, shuffling it into place in its off centre resting position. 

“There. Perfect.” Yang smiled, her voice soft and quiet but with a hint of pride. Weiss turned her head as much as she could whilst Yang’s hands remained buried in her hair, whilst she admitted Yang had done better than any of her own failed previous attempts something still felt erroneous. Yang’s hands clamped a little tighter and swivelled Weiss’ head back to her, leaning over to kiss Weiss’ lips tenderly with the Heiress reciprocating the chaste kiss.

“Y-Yang…I appreciate it, really I do, but…” Weiss began as they slowly broke away, her breath slightly ragged from the lengthy exchange of lips.

“No, you’re perfect. Regular Weiss, flawed Weiss, nervous Weiss; they’re all perfect. I want my Mom to see the Weiss I always get to see. A little bit selfish, a little but high-and-mighty but perfectly beautiful and caring.” Yang compounded her romantic speech with a wink “My perfect Princess.”

Weiss spun around, arms cross over her chest, with her back to Yang in order to hide her blush and embarrassment over Yang Xiao Long once again finding a way to be a frustrating combination of romantic and grating “I am not…fine. If I’m a princess, treat me like one. I wish for my coat, please.” Weiss regarded Yang through her reflection in the mirror, seeing the brawler bow teasingly respectful way.

“As you wish, your majesty.” A smile tugged at the corners of Yang’s mouth, as much as Weiss may have vehemently argued there was an important distinction between that of an Heiress and a Princess it appeared as if in practice they were very similar if Weiss’ attitude or behaviour was anything to go by. Yang grabbed Weiss’ jacket emblazoned with the Schnee emblem on its back “Arms out, your highness.” Yang instructed with a snooty accent to reflect high-society or at least a butler that would be found from it. Weiss complied, begrudgingly, with a huff and outstretched her arms as Yang began the task of helping Weiss change into her bolero jacket, the Heiress rolling her shoulders and shaking her arms once Yang had finished so as to get comfortable and assure that everything was properly in place. Yang stepped back and bowed once more, Weiss observing her by looking back over her shoulder “Your majesty is the most beautiful and majestic woman in the world…besides myself.” 

“You’re insufferable.” Weiss turned around to face her lover and her lips morphed into a miniscule smile whilst she fiddled with her hands “But thank you. As much as you can be…” Weiss searched for the least insulting way she could phrase her thoughts “Difficult. I am thankful for your unorthodox methods of trying to relieve me of stress.” Weiss stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Yang’s cheek “My chivalrous knight.”

“Weiss, you don’t have to worry. Okay? I barely know the woman myself. And I doubt I’m going to like her, it’s not like a conversation can make up for nearly eighteen years of abandonment and secrecy. It’s sweet that you want to impress her, but don’t go working yourself up over it.” Yang held Weiss’ palms in her own, stroking the back of her hands with her thumbs “I just want my Weissicle to have my back. Okay?”

Weiss smiled in a much more honest way than before “I will always have your back, Yang. Especially your rear.” Weiss flicked her eyebrows suggestively.

“D-Did you just flirt?” Yang looked astonished and Weiss rolled her eyes.  
“Why is that so shocking?”

“We call you the Ice Queen for a reason: Cause you’re cold and devoid of humour.” Weiss frowned at the nickname that had unfortunately done its rounds of the entire student body of Beacon and stuck like glue to her. On one hand, it was nice that her fellow students had become confident enough to openly tease her a little, if only a little as the damn name still irritated her to no end. 

“Hmph.” Weiss grunted. “First of all, I am not devoid of humour, Xiao Long! I simply have a much greater refined sense of humour that simpletons like yourself could never hope to appreciate!”

“Keep telling yourself that…” Yang muttered with an amused roll of her eyes.

“Secondly…” Weiss continued, choosing to ignore Yang’s passive-aggressive utterance “Secondly, none of that has anything to do with my appreciation of aesthetics and the beauty of the female body, your behind being one of my personal favourites.” Weiss could feel her own face twitch and practically burst into flames as she became completely flushed in mortification, but she did her best to maintain her smug expression. Yang tensed up, even with the blonde being the more dominant and experienced partner in romantic outgoings, she didn’t always handle being complimented so outwardly too well, especially in the manner Weiss was choosing to go about it. Yang could handle generalisations like “Damn! She’s something else!” or “Is she hot or what?” but Weiss had learnt singling out a piece of Yang’s body often brought her discomfort. She had first noticed it when Neon made fun of her chest for being top-heavy and the possibility of Yang having weight issues, but she had never assumed a positive comment could do the same to Yang. It made sense, or so Weiss assumed as much, because Yang liked to be the leader and the flirter, not many would be so extroverted and bold to out-flirt or dominate Yang. But Weiss had discovered that weakness, and would do all in her power to abuse it for her own amusement. 

“Ugh, you’re so wordy about it…” Yang looked out her peripheral as she blushed herself, trying not to catch Weiss’ piercing blue gaze, pulling on her infinity scarf to relieve her body of heat in a nervous gesture. 

“Then I’ll simplify things: I like your ass, Yang.”

“Grrrr, I got it the first time!” Yang growled “You have a nice ass too, you know?” Yang couldn’t have possibly been trying to be verbally spar with Weiss, since she was pouting with pursed lips, but if she had or been aware from how overwhelming and crippling that response had been for the Heiress, she could have killed Weiss with the indignity she was experiencing.

“W-W-What are you t-talking about?!” Weiss asked indignantly, shocked still at Yang’s words.

“You really don’t know?” Yang shrugged, her obliviousness on full display to how utterly stunned Weiss was at her words. Or perhaps she was being devious in how she casually ignored Weiss’ embarrassment and continued onwards to intensify the feeling “Your butt is small and cute. Firm too.”

Weiss wanted to disappear into a dark hole and disappear. Not before stabbing Yang with Myrtenaster so nobody could ever learn of this conversation. Freezing the entire school with her semblance may also be necessary, she wouldn’t take the chance of somebody overhearing the conversation and making off with the information to tell the press or something equally as awful. She could see the headlines now “Weiss Schnee: Deviant with a miniscule posterior!” Weiss was admittingly not the best with creative titling but the point still stood.

“Y-Yang…” Weiss needed a way out of this conversation as quickly as possible. Whilst it was perplexing how Weiss could stomach sexual intercourse without feeling embarrassed (on the contrary, she felt empowered by and revelled in it) yet she felt paralysed by the mere admittance of her girlfriend of several months confessing that part of her was desirable. “W-We really should get going, d-don’t you think?”

Yang pulled out her scroll and saw it was nearly midday “Oh yeah! Well, I guess now is as good a time as any.” Yang nodded, and Weiss, whilst still recovering from her humiliation, took Yang’s free hand in her own. Regardless of her own lack of self-belief or confidence, Weiss would do everything she could to support Yang, even if it only manifested in a small and insignificant gesture like holding Yang’s hand.

“I’ll h-have your back. Through thick and thin.” 

 

There was very little that Weiss didn’t love either openly or secretly about Yang Xiao Long, but the hulking mass of a death-wish on two wheels that the blonde christened as ‘Bumblebee’ was certainly one of the few things that left Weiss hated. Better yet, despised. Her hatred was somewhat well founded, ignoring the irrationality behind naming an inanimate object and showing it greater attention than perhaps she would show even Weiss at times, Yang was a very dangerous driver. 

Yang would pay little mind to whatever road-signs or speed limits had been placed on the roads leading into Vale whilst haphazardly darting between traffic to get ahead of vehicles that didn’t abide by her own sense of motorway-based conduct. Weiss swore every time Yang would dip her bike down to dart around a corner she could see her entire life flash before her eyes, and yet somehow the brawler always managed to prevent them from kissing the concrete and right them back into a stable (somewhat, stable) and upright position once more. If the heiress ever had any reservations or doubts about Yang’s claim to being an adrenaline junkie, this definitively quelled those thoughts and buried that ignorant scepticism six feet under. 

Beyond the sense of danger that Yang derived her excitement from, Weiss couldn’t begin to understand why Yang had insisted on them travelling in Weiss’ least favourite form of transportation, other than any that involved her in an enclosed space with her Father, of course. The seating was narrow and provided no safety features whatsoever. The sensation of a thousand needles stabbing into Weiss’ thighs every instance the bike bounced along the path. It was, understandably, uncomfortable for the ivory-haired girl. However, there was certain advantages that she could only enjoy by riding with Yang on Bumblebee, specifically that she needed to cling tightly to her lover out of necessity for her own safety, but it obviously came with the added benefit of being pressed against Yang’s back with her own chest. 

Between Yang’s roars of joy and excitement as well as Weiss’ own of fear, she was able to indulge herself in nuzzling Yang’s back and appreciating the warm sensation of Yang’s skin against the bitterly cold sensation of her own. It was relaxing being so close to Yang and feeling her warmth, and whilst Weiss would never allow herself to be subject to her own impulses and be so bold as to press her chest up to Yang in any capacity, riding in the passenger seat of Bumblebee allowed for justification to do exactly that and shamelessly hold herself tight to Yang.

If Weiss were being completely honest with herself, she could perfectly understand why Yang garnered so much exuberance from riding her motorcycle. The feeling of the wind rushing through her hair was so liberating it was like being completely divorced from the world itself as if she were flying in the open air. It perfectly reflected the free and unrestrained person that was Yang Xiao Long. A person without care and worry about the world around her, selfishly roaming the world without a second thought in regards to what people thought of her or presuppositions about her character. Yang was Yang, and she wouldn’t hide that from the world, something Weiss admired a great deal. Currently for Yang to be so self-indulgent and careless in how she weaved around the road, her shoulders motioning in a passionate laugh that the engine of her bike and scream of the wind around them drowned out, was an immaterial issue to Weiss. She knew that Yang was doing this just to clear her head. 

What awaited Yang in Vale was putting a pressure on Yang’s shoulders in a way she had probably never experienced before. Years upon years of searching and speculating about Raven and why she had abandoned her daughter were about to be rewarded with the answers Yang had desired above all else were within touching distance. But that didn’t mean Yang would like the answers, or the woman proving her with them. Even so, driving around on Bumblebee did so much to clear Yang’s head and push her anxieties to the back of her mind. It gave the blonde confidence, and seeing that unreserved and boisterous smile streaking across Yang’s face in a toothy grin made Weiss feel at ease. They would both be fine. As long as she had Yang by her side, there would be nothing she wouldn’t be able to stand up to. The Heiress would always be there for her lover, and if that meant putting up with a short and partly terrifying trip atop Bumblebee then she was more than willing to do so. In fact, she even found herself laughing, screaming in an elated manner. 

“Having fun back there, Princess?!” Yang shouted over the engine, and despite Weiss having her cheek pressed to Yang’s back and her eyes shut tight so she couldn’t see the landscape fly by at a frightening pace, she could tell Yang was smiling from the uplifting tone of her voice.

“If you ever tell anyone I enjoy this I will kill you, Xiao Long!” The threat was completely empty as she laughed jovially while clutching tight onto Yang “But yes! Yes, this is so much fun, Yang!” truth be told Weiss was experiencing a small pang of trepidation over the thought of someone recognising her and informing her Father she was riding on a motorcycle with another woman of her own age, but it was trivial. The longer she spent on the vehicle with Yang the less she cared about her own issues. She was happy to ignore the existence of the Grimm, the White Fang, or her own Father’s disdain for homosexuals. For the time being, she simply wanted to indulge in her childish want for pleasure and fun. “Faster, Yang! Let’s go even faster!” Weiss shouted.

“Hahaha! I’m happy to oblige, your highness!” Yang said and revved the engine before accelerating down the road as the city of Vale came into view. It was just to two of them, and both of them were going to relish every second of it whilst it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally shameless flirting and cute times between Weiss and Yang.
> 
> Next chapter will be big, very big. But we already knew that based off the cliffhanger in chapter 11.
> 
> Yes, Yang referenced "Baby Got Back" when literally talking about Weiss' back. Why? Because puns, of course. And anything to make Weiss blush and enjoy her innocent expressions.


	13. Regrets, Regrets; Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17 years of regret, abandonment and loneliness. Yang and Raven finally share more than a few choice words.

Yang pulled Bumblebee into a stop ahead of a line shops and other such similar outlets in the centre of Vale’s commercial district, and killed the engine as she kicked the stand of the bike down to balance it by the edge of the street. Weiss set about untangling herself from Yang, though she took as long as humanly possible in doing so in order to enjoy the comfort elicited from the sensation of Yang’s sturdy and muscular back. 

The ivory-haired girl jumped off the back of the bike and removed the helmet Yang had provided her with, and started rifling her hands through her hair and smoothing it down after it had become dishevelled thanks to the impractical nature of the helmet with that of her particular hair style.

Weiss audibly clicked her tongue in disapproval at the realisation that the tender moment she and Yang had shared by fixing her hair was essentially meaningless after the strong winds and helmet had muddled her hair. Weiss grunted as she finished making herself look at least somewhat presentable, no doubt Yang would still be unapologetic in her honesty about how she considered Weiss to be perfect and beautiful but that was neither here nor there. 

Weiss clipped the helmet to one of the handlebars of Yang’s bike and stood by Yang’s side on the street just ahead of the bike, the blonde studiously observing the store directly ahead of them like she wasn’t completely sure it was real, and was looking for any infraction or shred of evidence it was so. As if she was trying to find an excuse to run away, but Yang never ran. Running wasn’t in her character, it was just the nerves, and Weiss couldn’t exactly blame her for that apprehension. This was a monumental moment in Yang’s life, and in a way, it gave Weiss some perspective. Yang continued to charge forward with her own parental complications whilst Weiss still feared her own Father. She was still ultimately subservient to him, and as much as she had done to demonstrate to him that she was independent of him and not his ball of clay to manipulate into the perfect little heiress, she continued to rely on him and his money. 

However, she couldn’t feel sorry for herself right now. She needed to be there for Yang, and support her.

“Are you sure we should leave your bike on the side of the road like that? Couldn’t it get impounded?” Weiss asked.

Yang just shrugged back, as she stifled a laugh upon reading the name of the establishment back to herself “I’m not all that concerned with a ticket right now, Weissy. Priorities.” Weiss was inclined to agree, if nothing else they could always take an airship back to Beacon or spend the night in a hotel room. Weiss didn’t know how long Yang and her Mother would speak for. Maybe a few hours, or maybe a few minutes. It depends on how they approached the volatile topics that were certain to be raised and queried as well as if Yang could temper her easily incensed personality. If Yang got her irritability from her Mother, then they might burn the whole city down if worst came to worst.

Weiss turned her attention to the name of the store and realised the horrible attempt at word play, groaning “I see you get your sense of humour from her. Good to know that’s genetic.”

“How’d you figure?” Yang asked.

“I have someone to blame now for all the infuriatingly dire jokes you’ve made ever since I’ve met you. Never again will I have to lie awake pondering what capricious god cursed me to be subject to such a terrible sense of humour. Instead, I can simply blame her.” Weiss smirked wryly.

“The moment we get home, I am so gonna get you back for that.” Yang warned, her tone sultry and foreboding. It sent a tingle up Weiss’ spine, and she couldn’t help but shudder. “Do we still have the handcuffs I stole from Sun that he and Neptune got from being junior detectives?”

“Y-Yang!” Weiss said disbelievingly at the implication.

“Oh right, sorry, _‘borrowed’_ ” Yang made some exaggerative air quotes as she spoke, Weiss becoming utterly flushed. 

Weiss covered her face and groaned “I-Instead of standing around wondering if bondage is out of the question or not, how about we go inside?”

“Right. Of course.” Yang said, and walked up to the door of the building and pushed it open, hearing the bell above wring like it had done the last time. The two of them stepped in one after the other with Yang in the lead. 

“Hello, Madams, can I help with anything?” A blonde woman from behind the counter at the back of the store asked. She sounded cheery but artificially so, like the line had been rehearsed. Yang looked about, but saw no signs of Raven whatsoever. The blonde employee had short and straight hair that ended just beyond her neck, with well-maintained bangs that framed her attractive face. She was dressed in a similar outfit to that of which Raven had worn during Yang’s initial visit to the store.

Weiss leaned in to Yang to whisper “Is that her?”

“No.” Yang said.

“So, where is she? You did say you made an appointment, correct?” Yang rubbed the back of her neck in response to Weiss’ question.

“Eh…not exactly. We agreed to meet here today, but not an exact time.”

“Honestly…” Weiss sighed, she shouldn’t have been shocked by Yang’s lack of foresight but it was still equally frustrating. “No matter. I’m sure we can ask her.” Weiss motioned towards the woman working at the till and began a trot over to her, heels clacking on the polished wooden floor. “Hello. Me and my friend here were meant to meet a Raven Branwen today, is she here?” Weiss asked and the woman looked worried and perplexed, her eyes wide like a Deer caught in headlights. 

“T-There’s no…p-person called Raven Branwen here, I’m sorry…” the woman tapped her fingers nervously on the counter below, and Weiss studied her extensively for a few seconds. A trait she had picked up from her Father, albeit inadvertently, was the ability to detect nervous ticks from people when under pressure. It was useful in a business scenario, and Weiss could easily apply the skill (if one was to be liberal with that usage of “skill”) to the current conditions. Clearly the inquiry into Yang’s Mother had made the woman incredibly anxious. 

“Really?” Weiss asked, the scepticism practically pouring out of her mouth. “Because my friend recalls a black-haired woman with crimson eyes talking to her in this very store the previous night who just so happened to be called Raven Branwen. So, I have to ask, are you intentionally misleading us, or are you just that dense?”

“Weiss, you don’t have to be so rude…” Yang said from behind Weiss, outstretching her hand to touch Weiss’ shoulder in an attempt to quell Weiss’ impoliteness. Weiss knew Yang hadn’t picked up on the fact the woman clearly did know about Raven, but was choosing to cover it up for whatever reason. Yang could be too trusting, or simply too oblivious, at times. 

“Yang, it’s clear she’s lying to us! Can’t you tell?” Weiss held out her hand accusingly towards the woman behind the counter, who was only growing in how nervous she was acting, fingers wrapping against the wooden surface below whilst her eyes darted around the room, a thin line of perspiration lining her forehead. 

“Yeah, maybe, but insulting her isn’t going to get us anywhere…” Yang began as the door behind the woman suddenly opened, and out strolled a woman with long black hair with streaks of red scattered throughout. She looked slightly frustrated, arms crossed over her chest as she chewed the inside of her mouth, the blonde ahead of her practically freezing on the spot in dread at the appearance of the woman whom she couldn’t visibly perceive, but seemed aware of who she was regardless. 

Weiss noticed how Yang’s eyes went wide, like her very soul had been ripped out and toyed with, only for her essence to be lovingly stitched back together, leaving her conflicted. She looked lost for words and distant, something Weiss had only ever seen a handful of times before, and it was never something that didn’t shake Weiss to her core. It was the antithesis to what everyone expected of Yang, and that frightened her a little. 

Weiss turned back to the woman and was confused at how similar in appearance she was to Yang, from the shape of their eyes and facial structure to the wild and untameable style of their hair as well as their height, physical shape and curves. Of course, it didn’t take Weiss long to figure out exactly why the two of them were so alike. She was looking at the women who had given birth to Yang and left her the very next morning: Raven Branwen. It was surreal just how similar the two of them appeared, if only on a superficial basis, with only the subtlest of differences apart from the colour of their hair and eyes, and even then, Yang’s eyes could copy the colour of her Mother’s with the right motivation. For a moment, she felt the tension on the air rise with the temperature, and thought Yang would burst into flames and leap at her Mother in a fit of rage. Instead, all Yang did was gulp, and steady her own breathing. It was obvious to Weiss that Yang wasn’t comfortable as well as increasingly conflicted at how to feel. She thought the confusion Yang had been suffering from after they had talked to Qrow was as bad as it could get, but this was something worse. Weiss reached out and entwined her fingers with Yang’s squeezing her hand to remind the blonde she was here for her, and Yang squeezed back. 

“Lilly.” Raven spoke and the blonde women nodded reflexively, her movement jagged and rough. “You still lack an effective poker-face. You crack easily under pressure, work on that. I’ll take over here.” Raven informed the woman, and she bowed her head in shame.

“Yes, Mistress…I mean, Yes Ma’am.” The woman walked through the door Raven had entered the room through, Yang’s Mother keeping a close eye on the woman until she had rounded the corner and was out of sight, before turning to face both of the Huntresses-in-training with a warm and welcoming smile.

“She’s part of the newer generation of the tribe. Still needs more training at not blowing our cover. I try not to use my name for obvious reasons. Although that matters little when you're subordinates are woefully incompetent.” Raven shrugged indifferently at her own point and gestured towards the door “But that’s trivial to you two. We have much more to discuss, don’t we; Yang?” 

 

The Huntresses-in-training were led into a backroom by Raven, that lacked the professionalism and sleek presentation that the front of the store possessed. Though that only made sense, since the store itself was simply a front for Raven’s operations, which was becoming thoroughly clear to Weiss from the stash of weapons and armour in the backroom that otherwise looked like a break-room turned armoury. There was a round poker table in the middle of the room with several chairs tucked underneath it. Beyond that there was a combination of sinks, a fridge and counters as well as furniture like a worn-down sofa pushed into one of the walls adjacent to them. It helped to accentuate the absence of attention the rest of the building had been given in place of the front of the shop. Raven clearly hadn’t paid it much heed that the whole establishment could do with a makeover, as the room was leaking water from every corner and the paint was peeling. 

Raven pulled out a chair and sat facing the two girls, motioning for them to join her. She was rather straightforward with how she was acting, incredibly calm and almost apathetic in how she was reacting to meeting both her child and her girlfriend for the very first time, essentially. There was something admirable in her aloofness, and equally aggravating about it. It reminded Weiss all too much of her own Father, yet he would never take time out his own busy scheduling to talk to any of his children. You would be fitted in to when it suited him best, or not at all. That gave Raven the slimmest of advantages on the parenting scale, but Weiss was slightly biased. 

The two teenagers took a seat ahead of Raven, Yang’s lilac eyes transfixed on her Mother and for a few moments Raven mirrored her daughter perfectly, the only difference being Yang’s facial expression was decisively neutral whereas Raven’s lips were perked up in a small smile. She eventually turned to inspect Weiss, and the Heiress realised her manners, and offered out her hand towards Yang’s estranged parent. 

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is-” 

“Weiss Schnee. Daughter of Jacques Schnee. Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company. Oh yes, I am well aware of you.” Whatever benevolent nature Raven’s appearance may have given off, her voice contrasted it. It was analytical and detached, even partially ominous and dark. Raven laughed lowly in the back of her throat “And apparently, my Daughter’s paramour. How quaint.” Her eyes shifted back to Yang “You have good taste, my dear. She’s quite the catch.” 

If Weiss wasn’t in such a peculiar and unique situation between her lover, the abandoned child, and her long-lost Mother, she might have appropriately blushed at the compliment. But everything Raven said appeared to be mixed in positivity and negativity, back-handed compliments and carefully chosen phrasing as to hide her actual meaning and intention. Because of that, Weiss remained neutral, if slightly fazed by Raven’s supposed knowledge of her.

“If you may be so kind as to enlighten me, could you tell me of how your romance started? I always keep my eyes on Yang and keep up to date through her Uncle, but I miss the intimate details and specific goings-on of her life.” Raven asked.

“We’re on the same team. Things just sorta…clicked. We didn’t get along well at first, but that animosity eventually morphed into respect for each-other and eventually once we learnt how to talk and trust each-other, and I had confided my homosexuality in Yang, and her own interest in me, one thing simply led to another…” Weiss explained and Raven just nodded.

“I am well aware of how team-centric relations can easily develop.” Raven chuckled “When you live the life of Huntresses and Huntsmen, you soon learn you need to develop attachments and connections to people you can trust to watch your back and not vanish from your life. You quickly learn how finite things are, and how fickle life can be. You need a bedrock, and your team is your best hope of a bedrock, friendships and affections formed in blood and steel. Romance is the natural conclusion, though you do need natural attraction and mutual interests.”

“I have my own questions.” Yang said, candidly, ignoring her Mother’s comments over Weiss and the Heiress appreciated that. She wanted nothing less than to be the primary subject of this conversation and to be swiftly moved away from that was comforting. 

“Of that, I have no doubt. I apologise for my selfish indulgence into your life. Ask away.” Raven sat back, one leg over the other and tented her fingers over her lap as she adopted an even more casual air. 

“Why…why did you leave me? Dad? Qrow and Summer too!” Yang’s hands had balled into fists, and they quaked in her mostly quiet rage. She was doing her best not to grow angry, but it was a futile effort. The issue was difficult to broach without being reminded that the woman ahead of her had purposefully and willingly abandoned her, yet she still had the courage to sit ahead of her like she had done nothing wrong. 

Although her reaction seemed to contradict that assumption, Raven sighed ashamedly and her eyes roamed the room until they stopped on her own hands, observing them as they remained idle.  
“To protect you. That’s all I ever wanted. All I ever wanted was for you to grow up in peace and tranquillity. I didn’t make the choice lightly, and nor do I fail to regret it every second of my life, Yang.” She brushed her hands through her hair and sat forwards, eyes now making contact with Yang’s own.

“But why? What from?” Yang asked with hurt in her voice, tears stinging her eyes.

“I assume that Qrow had happily divulged a great deal of Remnant’s secrets so I won’t bore you with the details. When I met Tai and Summer, I thought that maybe Qrow and I could live another way. Not part of some tribal bandit community. I thought we could be happy. But then Ozpin exposed the real nature of this world to me. The Grimm, the Maidens, and worst of all: Salem. Not to mention his idea of fighting back was to send children off as his warriors ready to unwittingly die for his sins. For his mistakes. He was happy just to sit back and wait for a move to be made and I simply couldn’t wait idly by as our world and way of life was plotted against. When I learnt that I was carrying you, I relentlessly fought back and forth with what I should do. Should I be a good Mother? Should I be there for my baby girl? Should I abandon the two people I loved more than I ever thought possible, in Tai and Summer? Or should I take action, and do whatever is necessary to protect you from the evils of the world? When you were just a few hours old, so small and so vulnerable, I cradled you close. And I cried. I cried because I was so scared of losing you. Of watching this world and the status quo that Ozpin is so happy to perpetuate swallow you whole. I couldn’t let it happen, nothing was too far beyond worth doing so that you would never have to learn the reality of this world. So, I left. I left knowing Tai and Summer would hate me, Qrow would resent me, and I would likely die before ever knowing what would become of my sweet baby Yang.” Raven laughed bitterly “And even with all of those sacrifices what do I have to show for it? One of my lovers is dead, the other hates me, and my sweet baby Yang is as aware of what I wanted to shield her from as I was at your age. Fate has a funny way of fucking with me.”

“Sure, can’t look after your own daughter, but can save the world from an unknown evil that has Ozpin content with the world only possibly being in danger.” Yang bit back and Raven found some amusement in the insult, smiling absently. 

“Touché.” Raven said with an flick of her head in casual admittance to the hypocrisy “I know you must hate me. Justification matters little when your Mother leaves you to ultimately quell her own fears.”

“I don’t…hate you. Neither does Dad. We’re both just so confused, he loved you so much. You should see how empty he looks whenever he sees a picture of you. I don’t think I could ever hate my own Mother, I just…” Yang paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts “Why never come back? Why not try and explain everything to me earlier? Why now?” Yang pressed on, ignoring the pity in her Mother’s voice and Raven nodded reassuringly to inform her she understood the point of her rambling.

“It’s not that easy, Yang. The moment I made my choice, any interaction I had with anyone painted a target on their back. I couldn’t do that to Tai, or you…and I was stupid enough to think it couldn’t happen to Summer…what a fool I was…” Raven chuckled bitterly. “I was never going to make that mistake again, not to you. Qrow blames himself, but I know deep down, I’m the reason Summer died.”

“How…how did she die?” Yang asked, tentatively, but Raven just shook her head.

“I’m sorry Yang. That’s too painful to talk about right now. Ever wonder why your Uncle drinks so much? I don’t blame him. Summer’s death was rather scarring. Something we both wish we could drink away. Maybe I’ll tell you, one day.” Dodging such an important topic was jarring for Yang, but she couldn’t focus on it. Like all her other swirling emotions she simply pushed it away for the time being. Yang felt a pang of guilt that she couldn’t provide Ruby with some clarity on her own biological Mother, but there was little she could do about it if Raven refused to speak about it, and the drained and saddened expression on her face was one that informed Yang she wasn’t going to shift her position from any time soon.

“You’re going to dodge the question? Just like that?” Yang asked, curious if her Mother truly was now doubling back on her apparent promise to shed some light on the reality of their familial circumstances.

“Just like that.” Raven replied with a decisive nod, ending that route of inquiry.

“So, why are you here then? Why finally make contact with me and Uncle Qrow now, if you were trying to keep us out of danger?”

“Because you’re a Huntress now. And you have helped disrupt Salem’s plans, meaning any involvement or lack thereof between us is a moot point. You remember the Attack on Beacon, several months ago, correct?” Yang nodded, she had been a key component in driving off the White Fang and invading Grimm, after all. “I have been in Vale since just prior to then. I saved you on the train during the Breach of Vale through the old underground networks of Mountain Glenn. You left me with no choice but to involve myself in order to save your life, otherwise everything I have done to keep you safe and protect the world would have been for naught. I only ever intended to protect you once, as common courtesy as well as the one act of Mothership I could afford to give you. In all likelihood, it probably did you no good and still painted a target on you, as I will explain eventually. But I digress, those two events were of no coincidence. I regularly obtain information pertaining to our enemy’s movements and operations, and sometimes bleed that information over to Qrow, or Ozpin if I’m feeling generous.” She chuckled at her own dark-humour “Our enemies, they had planned to obliterate Beacon and Vale during the Vytal festival. They were going to use you as one of their pawns, though you would have been unknowing of it at the time until it was too late.”

“What?!” Weiss asked, incredulously, and Yang mirrored her expression looking aghast.

“Yes. They were going to cause a panic through systematic and incremental means of drawing large bodies of Grimm forces to Vale’s perimeter. A dismembering of a Vytal tournament combatant here, a murder of another there, all live for the world to see, and then they were going to hack General Ironwood’s ships and automatons to force them to commit mass murder of Huntsmen and civilians alike. Chaos and bloodshed. And they were going to blame it on the leaders of the academies of both Beacon and Atlas. With a lack of trust, as well as every nation suffering casualties, everyone would unite in a crusade against Atlas. A new Great War and plenty of negative emotions to boot would fuel Grimm attacks like you’ve never seen. And in all of this, our enemies would take advantage of the chaos and divisions in humanity. They would steal the Maiden’s powers, and the relics hidden beneath every academy in Remnant.” Raven explained, and even though Yang was shocked and terrified by the explanation her Mother was providing her, she still found the courage and ability to respond.

“R-Relics? What are those?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, believe me. It’s too complicated and too long an individual story to get into as of this moment. Just be aware they’re essentially the glue that binds humanity and all life on Remnant together. They give us our free will, our strength, and our intelligence. Fortunately, however, I learnt of the extent of their plans before they had been fully set into motion. I hired an elite mercenary outfit who could be trusted to do the righteous thing and prevent Salem and her forces from fulfilling their goals. In short, we stopped them from using you as their ill-informed pawn and we managed to avert them from acquiring Ironwood’s machines. Although, we weren’t able to make a clean sweep of her agents in Vale. The attack still occurred, and worse yet, they managed to kill the Maiden under Ozpin’s watchful eye and stole her powers.”

“But, what does this have to do with you being here now?” Weiss asked. 

“There are a few reasons. Allow me to explain. First, I believed I owe you answers, long overdue answers. I hope they have been at least somewhat satisfactory. Secondly, I wish to bring you into the fold. You are a capable warrior, and a Huntress I am proud to call my daughter, even if I have no right to say that." 

Yang blushed a little, despite her reservations and bitter feelings about her Mother, being told by your parent they are proud of you is something universally heartwarming that Yang treasured. Raven's smile faded somewhat, and her eyes gradually drifted away. For what reason, Yang wasn't sure, but she assumed the nature of their conversation was about to take a turn for the worst.

"Additionally, beyond the fact that you are now just as embroiled in this shadow-war as I am, albeit inadvertently, it means me keeping my distance no longer matters and Ozpin has more than adequately displayed his methods of quietly waiting for our enemies to pick us apart isn’t going to work anymore. We need affirmative action and effective leadership, and we need to end this war before it begins. In one operation, I managed to upset Salem’s forces and disrupt her plans more than Ozpin had ever achieved. So, I set up operations permanently in Vale because it is the obvious target for Salem to attack. She started with it because she wanted to send a rather egotistical message to Ozpin in the form of no matter how much faith he has in humanity, she can topple it all in an instant. And she’s right. His methods are too lackadaisical and careless to grant us victory. I had my men steal confidential documents and encoding for Vale’s anti-Grimm defences. With a flick of a switch I can leave Vale completely defenceless.” Yang and Weiss looked to each-other and gawked, Raven’s eyes were hard and steely, indicating this wasn’t some sick joke the two of them were wishing for. 

“That’s…!” Yang began.

“Necessary.” Raven interrupted her.

“Wrong!” Yang concluded. “You’re playing with people’s lives here! Mine! Weiss’! All of our friends and family in Vale!”

“As I said before, Yang: I am willing to do anything to protect you. To protect this world, nothing is too far beyond what I consider necessary. Even blackmailing Ozpin to passing the reins of power over to myself. Regardless of how many innocent lives are hypothetically hanging in the balance as a result of my methods.” Raven leaned across the table with her arm outstretched, eyes pleading for Yang to understand her. “I am not about to simply sacrifice millions of lives. But if Ozpin proves just one more time to be an ineffective leader he would essentially be doing the same. And I will do everything to remove him from power if that is the case.”

Yang couldn’t begin to believe it. Her knuckles were bleeding a ghostly white as she balled her hands into fists so tight they were quaking in disbelief and anger. She shouldn’t have been disappointed in retrospect, this was the woman who had abandoned her after all. But it was so difficult to hear that she would be so ruthless and willing to play god with people’s lives. This couldn’t be the woman whom her Father had fallen in love with. She was cruel and calculating. Devoid of warmth and humanity. 

Yang pushed herself up on the table, seething in anger, as she heaved every breath out in a laboured manner. Her eyes were the brightest shade of crimson they had ever adopted, and flickers of flames licked and kissed her hair. She looked up, and drove her gaze directly into her Mother’s, which was wide-eyed and perhaps slightly anxious at the burgeoning anger seeping out of her daughter.  
There was no way the blonde could accept this, no way in hell. Maybe she was being a slave to her emotions like she had been warned by those around her, but she couldn’t just stand there and let this be. Maybe she was ignorant of the way Remnants secret politics worked and maybe Raven had a point about Ozpin being too inactive at quelling the supposed encroaching darkness that was Salem, but it simply wasn’t right to bargain lives for power. It was inhumane. You couldn’t fight evil with another evil, if you did you’re no better than what you’re fighting. It angered Yang so much it hurt, her chest actually ached as she replayed every horrible thing her Mother had said. Her heart dropped and her head burned with rage. She was angry, so, so angry. 

“You’re a monster.” Yang snarled “I...I can't believe this! This is so wrong! How can you sit there and day any of this?! Are you listening to yourself?! Do you see how much this is hurting me?! Can't you see how wrong all of this is?!" Yang said, her crimson eyes streaming glistening tears in the soft afternoon light. She bit down hard on her lip, trying to stop herself from voicing her opinion but it was far too late by this point. Her emotions were dictating her actions and opinions now. "I wish Summer was here, instead of you!” Yang screamed with absolute abhorrence, her voiced laced with venom. Raven’s eyes were fixed on the floor below, tears prickling behind her eyes as she slowly rolled her entwined hands within each-other. Yang stood and marched out of the room, smashing the door open and off its hinges as she walked through the store. 

Weiss looked between the two of them, and reluctantly left Raven to herself. For some reason, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman. Perhaps because she wasn’t as intimately connected being an outsider to the Xiao Long and Branwen families’ internal issues she could feel sorry for Raven. It wasn’t like her story was completely despicable. There was some tragedy and relatability to the tale. Regardless, Weiss sprinted after Yang, leaving Raven all by her lonesome. 

“Yes…I wish she was too…” Raven whispered to herself. 

 

Yang needed air, and she needed it desperately. Mostly to cool her head and think through some of this bombshell her Mother had dropped on her.

Could she even call Raven her Mother that anymore? She didn’t understand how someone could come to the conclusion that gambling with the lives of millions of innocents was in any way justifiable. Somehow, the women back in that room had found some way to do that. And it made Yang feel dirty and tainted that she was part of the reason Raven had found both motivation and justification for her misdeeds. 

Yang’s gut wrenched, and her throat felt hot and dry. She needed air, and time to think. Yang always felt the creeping suspicion her Mother couldn’t be considered a morally virtuous person, and despite her hopes and the yearning for an apologetic Mother with a good excuse for abandoning her, she had only gotten half of that. Her Mother seemed legitimately guilty, but her reasoning for doing it was so misguided. The worst part was she still wanted to love her, she wanted to believe what Raven was doing what was right. That in some reasonable way what Raven was doing could parallel her own world-view and ideology. She wanted to cry, and embrace the woman. To forgive all past transgressions, but it just couldn’t be. Maybe, if she calmed herself down, she could talk her Mother out of it, and have her return in some capacity. It was foolish and idealistic thinking, but didn’t she owe it to her Father to try? To Ruby, so she might know the feeling of a Mother’s embrace? To herself, to finally have her life’s goal accomplished? It was maddening.

“Yang! Wait up! Yang!” Weiss called after her lover, as Yang was almost at the front door, the blonde turning around so her crimson eyes, filled with negativity, stared into cerulean ones that were timid in nature, Weiss needing to take a gulp to quell her fears momentarily to keep eye contact. Yang was furious, but she would sooner rather perish then lay a finger on Weiss and harm her. The blonde only needed space and time to figure things out, and calm herself down. 

Yang’s eyes relented in their intensity, remaining crimson, but looked downtrodden as her shoulder slumped at Weiss’ concerned expression.

“Yang, where are you going?” Weiss asked.

“I…need some fresh air. I just…can you believe her?!” 

Weiss shook her head “Of course not. But Yang, we hardly know anything. We barely know about the Maidens, or this Salem character, or anything! Your Mother doesn’t seem evil, or even willing to kill innocent people. Maybe she has a good reason, or maybe she’s being plainly selfish, but we won’t know if we just run away. This has been your dream since you were little. Are you willing to leave so abruptly?” Weiss argued passionately. She mainly did it for Yang, she had misgivings about Raven, that was for certain, but she thought Yang owed it to herself to understand as much as possible and not be a slave to her own anger. She would regret it for the rest of her life.

“I, I know! I know Weiss!” Yang said, desperately, at the growing conflict of emotions, rationality, and basic want. “She’s meant to be my Mother though! How could she do something so…so…I don’t know! Evil? Messed up? Cruel? All for me? I’m the reason millions have the barrel of a gun pointed at the backs of their heads and they don’t even know about it!” Yang was clearly breaking down, her voice croaky and she was sobbing through her tears. 

“You can’t blame yourself, you’ve done nothing wrong, Yang! You know you’re only part of the reason your Mother is doing this, she’d be doing it either way because she thinks it’s the best way to save humanity!” Weiss replied, moving closer to Yang until they were right next to one-another, the difference in their height properly emphasised as Weiss had to tilt her head to look at Yang. 

“Isn’t that nice? I’m only part of the reason so many people’s lives are worth risking for power!” Yang flung her arms in the air in a mix of sarcasm and exasperation. “Whose side are you on, Weiss?!” Yang yelled and felt two icy hands clasp either side of her cheeks, pulling her down as Weiss kissed her, overpoweringly, but refusing to push Yang’s boundaries. 

Weiss was hurt by Yang’s accusations, there was no way being suspected of betrayal by the person she loved couldn’t hurt, but she knew it wasn’t coming from a place of malice. She had to remind Yang exactly who she was. Of course, she was the Heiress of the SDC, and the cold and unapproachable girl who intimidated many, but in her mind, that was all paltry. First and foremost, she was Yang’s lover. She would always have Yang’s back and stand by her side.

“I’m always, always, on your side, Yang.” Weiss said, as they momentarily broke the kiss. Yang leaned into Weiss’ touch and sighed. “Sometimes, parents let us down. They’re human. They make mistakes. Trust me, I know what it’s like to have reprehensible parents.” Yang nodded, realising Weiss better understood this than anybody. “And because of that, I am well versed in this matter, so I can tell your Mother isn’t a bad person, trust me. Maybe misguided, but she’s good. She has to be, because you came from her.” Yang blushed, her cheeks matching her eyes in shade.

“W-Wow…you’re really nothing to Schneeze at, Weiss…” Yang smiled somewhat and Weiss actually legitimately giggled, kissing Yang again. 

“You’re awful. Making jokes now of all times? Seriously; the worst. Which makes me pretty stupid for loving you.” Weiss took a step back and motioned to the door “How about you cool off outside, and we can try again?” Weiss asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice, and Yang nodded, opening the door and stepping through, before immediately stopping, her entire body freezing. “Y-Yang? Is something wrong?”

Yang’s eyes fixated on a blonde-haired wolf-Faunus with shimmering silver eyes that looked slightly distant and glazed like he was intoxicated. But from the stunned look on his face, he clearly recognised the blonde brawler and the feeling was mutual. 

“You!” Yang shouted, gritting her teeth and immediately flicking her arms aggressively to activate Ember Celica as they folded out from their bracelet form.

The Faunus sighed and grimaced “Just my fucking luck…” he muttered, shutting his eyes tight before locking eyes with Yang, an expression of threating intent etched onto his face. 

Yang wasted little time, and leapt towards him, striking down with her right hand towards his head from above. Silver leapt to the side and dodged, though his balance was uneasy and he stumbled, Yang’s strike shattering the pavement around it as she landed in a crouch. Yang immediately rose up, both arms drawn back, Ember Celica clicked into action like it was ready to fire.  
Silver began to shimmer, but found his semblance failing to activate. It looked like he was right with her previous assertion that alcohol affected the soul and body, and therefore weakened Semblances much like it did bodily control and functions. 

He looked down to his side, and saw an open alleyway. In no way was going to risk fighting a pair of Huntresses, much as the ivory-haired girl seemed timid and reluctant to jump in. He assumed that would change should he lay out the blonde. His eyes caught Raven’s store window, and saw the very women looking horrified at the stand-off between the two combatants. Silver didn’t understand why, it was the most emotive he had ever seen Raven, and it was disconcerting to say the least. He assumed it was because Silver was in the midst of a fight, and she might have realised just how dangerous a fight would be for their operations should Silver involve himself so openly. Or maybe she feared for his own safety. In either case, it didn’t take top priority. The blonde leapt at him again, firing a buckshot from her gauntlets, with Silver swaying away and dodging with a swivel of his feet. She swung wildly again, trying to take his head off but he leaned back to allow it to pass harmlessly over. Silver then planted his foot between both of Yang’s and with an open-palmed strike into the centre of her chest, sending her scuttling back from the force.

Silver groaned, the strike should have been enough to incapacitate the girl, like he had done to the darker-haired girl he had fought alongside the blonde previously, but his aura was acting fickle from the alcohol. Flickering and dying before he could properly outfit his attacks with a decent degree of artificial force. With that in mind, he would have to be incredibly quick to make sure he couldn’t be damaged as well as landing enough offence to defeat the Huntress. Simply put, because of his lack of defensive and offensive output, that was incredibly unlikely. He’d be quickly defeated. A battle between someone who had unlocked their aura verses someone who either didn’t have theirs unlocked or temporarily couldn’t use theirs only ever one way, and right now the odds were stacked against Silver. Silver came to the decision, as much as it pained him to give into cowardice, to run.

“Sorry, blondie, maybe I can kick your ass another time?!” Silver said, as he turned around and started sprinting down the alley, trying to hold onto his balance as best he could despite the light-weightiness in his limbs that occasionally caused him to stumble, only righting himself at the last second before he would tumble. He simply couldn’t afford to fall over. Not with an enraged Huntress on his tail. 

 

Raven had watched the entire event transpire, and she was frozen to the spot. Silver’s eyeline had met hers only briefly, but it was telling. He had no idea who Yang was, and didn’t care. He wasn’t stopping to think, to consider what was going on. He had the air he carried around whenever he was inebriated, eyes darkened and detached from the world around him. Yang’s reaction didn’t exactly inspire confidence, the anger she had ostensibly built up as a result of the harsh truths Raven had explained to the young Huntress-in-training had exploded like a volcano of raw emotion. She couldn’t tell why Yang had reacted so violently to Silver specifically, but it was a moot point. 

Her daughter immediately gave chase after Silver. Raven trusted Yang’s abilities, there was little reason not to. Her accomplishments in the Vytal tournament and in the Attack on Beacon spoke for themselves, but Raven saw first-hand just how deadly Silver could be. As much as she wanted to trust Silver, Yang was too precious and important to risk her life so wantonly based on her perception of Silver’s mercy, especially when he had was drunk and less likely to listen to his own consciousness. The wolf-Faunus may champion concepts like mercy and justice, but if push came to shove, what would triumph? His principles, or his self-preservation? 

Raven sprinted into the back room, grabbing her sheathed blade. It felt heavier than usual, and her hands shook in panicky anticipation.

“Silver…don’t lay a finger on my daughter…” She prayed silently to a deity she didn’t believe in, and quickly chased after her descendant and employee.

 

Yang followed Silver to the end of an alleyway where it expanded into a backstreet where few people were currently located. It was good a place as any for an engagement, Silver wanted as little collateral damage as possible. Whilst he had initially decided on running and sparring the Huntress, she was proving all too persistent and he had failed in putting enough distance between them as they darted in and out of the alleys making up a maze-like system within the centre of Vale.

The Wolf-Faunus span around. He fully intended on ending this here and now. Whomever this Huntress was didn’t particularly hold any value to him, and despite his declaration to Viridian about not taking lives he wasn’t going to find an easy escape route with the girl chasing him whilst his Semblance was being finicky and refusing to activate thanks to his drinking habits. If he had some more self-control, or if luck better went his way, this wouldn’t have to happen. But it appeared as if he would have to take a page out of Raven’s play book and make a sacrifice to achieve the greater good, much as it pained him to stoop to her level. 

His eyes focused on Yang as the blonde skidded to a halt, but not before unloading a round from Ember Celica aimed straight for Silver’s head. 

The Faunus casually leaned to one side and allowed it to continue on its trajectory passed him and slam into the brick wall of a nearby convenience store, shooting cracks out of the building on the opposite end of the street. 

“You’re pretty damned persistent.” Silver snarled angrily.

“And you have a knack for fleeing with your tail between your legs.” Yang adopted her fighting stance, one foot ahead of the other with her hands emulating the position of her legs too. “Give up and let me take you into custody, and this can end without me breaking your bones.” Silver chuckled and assumed a similar stance to Yang, but with opened palms.

“You’re not dumb, blondie. That’s not how this ends. One of us dies. And it’s going to be you.” Silver said flatly.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Yang responded. She heard the clack of Weiss’ heels, and the Heiress stopped by her side. Her hands shot down for Myrtenaster and she grimaced upon realising that she had forgotten the blade, not assuming she would run into an adversary. “Stay back, Weiss. Let me deal with this.” Yang said, full of confidence. 

“You sure?” Weiss asked.

“Positive.”

Yang shot forward, tucking herself in tight and leading with a right hook at Silver’s flank, connecting flush with the side of his abdomen. He cursed at his reflexes being substantially lower than what they should have been, and staggered in the direction of Yang’s punch. Silver felt a sharp pain in side, probably a cracked rib, and he started resenting his alcohol dependency rather than just regretting it and how it was negating his aura.

The brawler followed up with an uppercut that Silver managed to block with both hands, pushing her offence away before leading with a jumping knee-strike. Yang went to block, but it turned out to be a feint, and he struck with the other knee as he lowered the initial one, striking her powerfully in the chin.

Yang grimaced at the burst of pain, her chin now cut and bleeding from just one of his attacks, though her aura set about quick work with stitching closed the wound. Silver didn’t take long to produce a follow up, running towards Yang and hooking his foot in order to sweep her off the ground, but the Blonde saw it coming, jumping over his sweep, landing behind him and landing a back-elbow trike to the base of Silver’s skull, knocking the Faunus to the ground. Yang swivelled around, kicking up dust from her momentum and gestured for him to come at her again. 

Cockiness was beginning to set in, and Weiss was worried when combined with her anger that it could leave Yang wide open. She hated the fact that she was essentially nothing but a bystander, due to her lack of hand-to-hand training or expertise. She’d put her faith in Yang though, it was about all she could do. Her faith and natural scepticism came to blows inside of her though, wrestling with each-other. She grasped the sides of her jacket tightly and bit her lip. 

_‘Please be safe…’_ Weiss thought to herself.

Silver obliged by Yang’s request, and struck with several open-palmed strikes that Yang redirected with her own punches, firing Ember Celica for increased velocity in her attacks whenever she needed to counteract the natural speed advantage in his strikes. They traded offence and counters, only landing glancing blows and waiting for whatever opening appeared. 

Silver slipped under a left hook Yang intended for his cranium. He struck initially with an elbow to Yang’s ribs so to unbalance her and lower her defences as she bit down on her lip to stop her groans of pain. He grappled her in a full-nelson, following it up by launching Yang over his head in a throw behind himself, connecting with a perfectly executed Dragon-Suplex. Yang landed on her neck and shoulders, rolling away whilst laying prone on the floor just to increase the distance between the two. Her neck stung with pain, but she couldn’t pay it much attention, her aura would deal with it anyway, and she had bigger fish to fry. Or Wolves, as the case appeared to be. 

Yang stood back up, flames flickering all around her, crimson eyes glowing, and she punched both her hands together, fire erupting all around her. She had been following Weiss’ advice by not relying on her semblance, but now it was just getting asinine. The want for finishing this duel was triumphing her discipline. She had stored up all the damage dealt to her, however minor, as well as whatever else the Faunus was planning to deliver and planned on giving it right back to him. Ten-fold. 

Weiss heard a desperate pant resonate from behind her, and she turned to see Raven arriving with sword-in-hand. Weiss went to speak, but Raven completely ignored her, moving instead to draw her blade, standing the opposite side of Silver to Yang. Raven didn’t know what she would do, but she couldn’t let anyone hurt Yang, for any reason. Even if it meant taking Silver’s life, she would do it. 

The Faunus looked to Raven in shock and betrayal, sneering at her. “Of course, of fucking course, always trust your instincts, Silver…” the Faunus reprimanded himself for placing his trust in Raven for a moment. Silver’s hands balled into fists, his gloves straining against the strength of his hands derived from his unyielding anger. Lambasting himself could wait for later, he decided. The Huntress and Raven were the cause of his current crisis. He would need absolute concentration if he were to overcome the odds.

“Silver! Stop immediately! That’s an order!” Raven demanded through gritted teeth.

“I’m not the one who started this! Tell that to this bitch!” Silver yelled back, frustration more than simply seeping into his voice. Instead, it had practically infested and merged with it, yet he managed to discern from Raven’s words that she wasn’t planning on betraying or killing him, not without good cause to do so.

However, Yang’s fury resulted in the nuance of Raven’s words and the implication behind them went straight over the Blonde’s head. With Silver momentarily distracted she closed the distance and struck Silver with a powerful combination: First with her right hand in a swift hook and then a devastating left uppercut. 

Silver stumbled back several paces, growling through the dull pain thanks to the alcohol’s side effect of dimming the body’s sense of touch. ‘At least it’s good for something…’ Silver thought to himself, more blithely than he probably should have given his perilous circumstances. He struck back at Yang with a forearm strike right to her face, at this point they were in such close proximity either of them could strike and effortlessly bypass the other’s defensive attempts at the expense of receiving damage themselves obviously. 

They both went for low kicks aimed at each-other’s right leg, colliding across each-other’s limb, only for yellow energy to spark from Yang’s leg and silver energy to crackle from Silver’s, albeit slightly weaker, but it was a good sign that his aura was manifesting to both protect him and augment his own strength.

Raven’s grip tightened on her own sword. The blade shook slightly, in her constant state of tenseness. Usually she would adhere to her own strategies without question, and see them through until their conclusion. But now she was doubting herself as she watched Silver and Yang trade offence, Ember Celica firing with every strike and Silver’s Claws of Fenrir glowing with the black aura of deacceleration to prevent the buckshot’s advances. Yang was to enraged to listen to reason, fully focused on defeating Silver and bringing him to justice, and Silver wouldn’t relent out of survival. She knew affirmative action was necessary, and she would have to fell one of them in order to bring an end to this, or risk losing them both. The choice was easy to make, though she knew only regret would follow the choice. Raven pointed the top of her blade in conjunction with Silver’s back, and sprung forward, ready to impale him for the sake of her daughter.

Silver’s Faunus ears flicked at the sound of movement behind him, and his eyes went unnaturally wide with his pupils shrinking at Raven’s blade now only mere inches from his back. He gritted his teeth, whilst mid-block of Yang’s latest hook, and focused every little piece of energy he had left within him to try and activate his semblance. It was his only chance of enduring his life. With only millimetres between him and the blade, his semblance flared into life, and he found himself deposited mid-air behind Raven, falling onto his side with a harsh thud, on his injured ribs. He cursed and wheezed hard at the contact with the unforgiving concrete, but smiled through his pained breaths at the lack of a sword through his spine. Small victories were always important in his line of work. 

The course of the battle had gotten progressively closer to Weiss, to the point she was adjacent with Yang’s flank. She had wanted to help, she felt ineffectual and worry persisted through her as Yang had once again defaulted to taking as much damage as possibly just to deal more out. She felt something splatter against her cheek and fabric of her dress covering her chest. She brought her hands to her face, and looked to the sky, only for her to see nary a cloud in the sky. That brought a sense of dread, and her gut dropped in terror. Her heart pounded against her chest violently, her breaths coming short, fast and inconsistently. Bringing her fingers away from her face the first thing Weiss noticed was the smeared colour of blood across them. She gulped, there couldn’t have been a way for her to suffer injury and from the sensation of the plasma splattering on her she knew that it had to of been somebody else’s. The Heiress was painfully aware why she was stained in blood, it wasn’t a complicated mystery to figure out. But she didn’t want to admit the possibility. Her eyes, scanned to her right and saw Silver laid on his side, clutching his ribs whilst smiling through a grimace out of satisfaction. He was hurt, but not bleeding. Weiss’ final bastion of hope had been demolished, and she reluctantly looked back over to Yang and Raven. Weiss’ hands shot up to her mouth as she gasped, her eyes stinging with tears as she shook head back and forth in despair. 

“No…no…please no…” She begged, her mind trying its very best to dispel what had to of been the illusion of Raven’s sword piercing through the side of Yang’s abdomen closest to Weiss. Blood dripping down the blade that poked out the back of Yang. The blonde’s arms fell limp, and her knees buckled as her body hung lifeless on the blade. 

Weiss collapsed onto her knees. In a moment, her world became null and void. She couldn’t create a coherent thought, only able to repeat the sobering information that Yang had been impaled. Weiss whimpered tragically and sobbed, her tears falling in a rhythmic pattern to the ground below.

Raven was equally devastated, her own tears streaming silently down her face. Her brain took several moments to truly comprehend the seriousness of the situation, and she quickly withdrew her blade, and dropped it to the floor; rattling before she caught Yang in her arms and cradled the unresponsive frame of her daughter. She began weeping over Yang’s body, pressing her face into Yang’s hair and silently begging for her child to speak to her. To say anything, even out of hatred for her. But Yang’s lips were silently parted, hung open with only the gentlest and weakest of breaths slapping Raven insultingly without energy of intensity. 

Silver finally rose to his feet, panting as he clutched a hand to his mangled ribs and bloody face from the offence of Yang. He was stunned to see Raven so devastated at skewering the girl now in her arms. She had done the same to a White Fang grunt the night before and not even flinched or shown a shred of compassion, even going so far as to prolong his suffering up to that point. But now she was audibly weeping and distraught. He was puzzled, and curious, as to why this girl was so worthy of finally evoking some human reaction from Raven and divert from her usually stoic and indifferent personality. Naturally, this wasn’t the only article his thoughts were fixated upon. He felt guilty over the girl being injured or potentially killed as he had only intended to avoid the attack from Raven that would have similarly robbed him of his life-force, and he bet Raven wouldn’t be as nearly broken up about it. Still, killing the Huntress hadn’t been his goal. Sure, he talked big about it, and perhaps there had even been an ounce of truth in his threats, but Silver wasn’t like Viridian. He couldn’t just rob the life of someone that he considered innocent of wrongdoings. If he could have helped it, incapacitating her and escaping would have been the ideal goal, but every time he thought he had put her down she just kept getting back up, and hitting him harder than ever before. 

He offered her a silent prayer (the irony of him praying was not lost on him and he hoped it never got back to Red so she could point out his hypocrisy). It was unfortunate but necessary what happened to the blonde but he wouldn’t let Red’s words be ironic, he would be there for his family. No matter what. 

Silver felt cold metal pressed to his back as he tried to back away, swivelling his head to see a grizzled man with crimson eyes and slightly discoloured black hair, symbolic of his ageing, yet still mostly youthful appearance. His broadsword was placed lengthways across his back, and his expression was a combination of barely contained rage and steeliness. Silver’s ears hadn’t picked up on anyone approaching him at all, but that didn’t matter much. He was completely at the mercy of the huntsman behind him.

“If you move an inch, kid, I’ll have no qualms with ripping you apart.” Qrow warned, and Silver grunted in recognition of his defeat.

“Bad luck has a funny way of finding me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to thank everyone for reading, leaving Kudos, and subscribing. We've already hit 2000 hits and that's insane to me. Thank you all very much. And now, onto the summary...
> 
> Oh boy. What a long chapter. About 10,000 words and by far probably the most dramatic, emotionally draining and difficult segments to write. Lots of intertwining moments and retconning of exposition and simple dialouge to try and make it like it really was their first ever conversation. Yang plays the role of questioner and Raven does her best to explain her motivations. 
> 
> Raven is not a hero nor a villain. She's morally grey like SLVR is. She's aware of the awful things she's proposing, but unable to come up with a better solution in her mind. There's flashes and substantial enough evidence for us all to see why Summer and Tai fell in love with her (Yes, Raven x Tai x Summer is cannon for this fic. Qrow's line about Summer telling Tai Raven didn't deserve him was a smokescreen, it was equally directed at herself). 
> 
> Ouch, by the way. The line from Yang to Raven about wishing for Summer to be alive instead of Raven had got to hurt.
> 
> Even ouchier, being stabbed accidentally by your own Mother has got to hurt. Emotionally AND physically. Guess that makes Yang 0 for 3 now. Silver is 3 for 0. If you can even call that a win.
> 
> Speaking of Silver, his lines about luck were foreshadowing for Qrow. The Huntsman of Misfortune is never around just because of coincidence. You'll find out why, don't fret. It's not too hard to figure out however.
> 
> I won't leave you with any answers like I normally may, I shall leave it up to your imaginations. Will Yang be okay? What will happen to Silver or the rest of SLVR? What about Raven? Or Weiss? Only time will tell.


	14. Lack of Patients

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss deals with the aftermath of Yang vs Silver, and Uncle Qrow arrives to once again save the day.

The following few days had been the very worst of Weiss’ life by far. Nothing could compete with the disillusionment and despair that occupied every inch of her body, not offering her a moment of reprieve. She was entirely paralysed and confined to her bed from the simple lack of willpower to stand. In the proceeding days following the altercation with the Wolf-Faunus known as Silver and Raven, Weiss had refused to leave her bed for any reason other than for basic bodily functions. But even so, she did everything she could to stave it off and wait for Ruby and Blake to leave her in complete isolation before she even attempted to wrestle herself from the bedding that surrounded her. 

Blake and Ruby were kind enough to fetch her water and food, without her needing to ask. Of course, they would have probably gone and retrieved anything she had asked for out of that familial bond they had developed ever since becoming teammates, in a futile attempt to raise her spirits. 

But Weiss only wanted one thing: Yang Xiao Long.

The unfortunate nature of her circumstances however was entirely non-existent. It had been three days since Yang had gone in for emergency surgery, and no information had been forthcoming. The one shred of hope she had was that as difficult as Ruby had taken learning about her sister’s critical condition, collapsing into Weiss’ arms and crying along with the heiress for some time, she had managed to overcome her own fear and hopelessness about Yang’s constitution and survival chances. She had seemed in quite high spirits, actually. The brunette had become like a surrogate for Yang’s own personality, maternally watching over Weiss and making sure the girl was supplied with every little object or distraction she needed to try and take her mind off of Yang. As embarrassing as it was to have a girl two years your junior look after you like some helpless child, as well as being fruitless thanks to Weiss’ misery combined with her stubbornness to remain in her stupor and do nothing about it, there was a sense of reassurance as well as it being quite soothing to have Ruby give her nothing but her undivided attention. Weiss appreciated the effort if nothing else. 

Additionally, the heiress couldn’t ignore Ruby’s partner in crime in the form of Blake Belladonna. Blake had been equally overwhelmed at the news about Yang, but had quickly taken it in her stride and it had become increasingly apparent that whilst Blake had relied on Yang to help her grow and become a better and more open person, she was superior in dealing with such strong and potentially poisonous emotions. Blake was still quite forward with her attempts at perking Weiss up, choosing the throw subtly out the window, but went about it differently to Ruby. She would sit beside Weiss, the Heiress curling up or shuffling to one side to allow Blake some room to sit beside her, and read aloud to Weiss. Blake’s voice was soothing and melodic, she wasn’t quite the singer Weiss was but that wasn’t altogether a fair comparison. Regardless, what Blake may have lacked professionally as an artist of music she made up for in the calming and Motherly nature in which she sung or read to Weiss. It was a beautiful characteristic reflection of Blake’s inner character being comforting and soft like the velvet ribbon atop her own ears. Sometimes when she had felt lonelier than usual, Weiss would reach out and hold Blake’s hand, the Cat-Faunus only all too happy to reciprocate the loving expression of their sisterhood. Sometimes just having Blake’s presence was enough. Despite the closeness they had developed since the days of Weiss assuming all Faunus were criminals and ranting and raving about Blake being scum for working for the White Fang in the past, the two of them still struggled to hold a comprehensive conversation. They quipped and joked, laughed and enjoyed each-other’s company, but that could be attributed to their enjoyment of casual and quiet pastimes like reading or drinking tea or coffee. Not that it mattered they couldn’t host a lengthy debate on random topics like Ruby and Yang could, not every relationship required that. They were more than happy to sit in armchairs, drink their beverage of choice, and discuss small things. Sometimes also discussing what could be done to better the standing of the Faunus in regular society to bridge the gap between them and humans. There were disagreements, but the overall intention was the same, and that’s how they helped each-other grow and understood the alternative perspective. Weiss thought to herself once she had finally pulled herself from the darkness she would have to thank Blake for going out of her way to help her, and Ruby too. 

Of course, they weren’t the only ones to visit Weiss. Pyyrha and Jaune regularly visited team RWBY’s dorm room to check up on Weiss and see how she was doing. Weiss had been exempted from her classes, as had Ruby and Blake, but they chose to continue attending after a day off to grieve and cry out their worries. 

Pyyrha was something special however, she was wise like Blake but less tentative about herself and how she approached Weiss. Being a world-renowned celebrity and fighter tended to make it easier to install confidence in you and helped when it came to approaching other people, though until Jaune came about Pyyrha herself hadn’t known that feeling, with people regularly shying away from her.  
She regularly brought back homework and assignments, knowing as depressed as Weiss felt she would be even more enraged in comparison if her grades fell because of it. Jaune never said much, and perhaps that was for the best. They still found it awkward to be around the other, and Weiss hadn’t exactly been making it any less difficult in her inertness at bridging the gap between them. Though he was still compassionate and sympathetic, offering some kind words whenever possible. It was more than enough to touch Weiss however, and she made a mental note to add them to the list of thanking people once she had gotten back on her feet. A list that also included Professor Port whom had sent a bowl of his own homemade soup he had apparently invented whilst on an expedition hunting down one of the rarest and most dangerous Grimm ever known to man. Supposedly, it was so piping hot that the Grimm melted on contact. Whilst Weiss remained doubtful he wasn’t just exaggerating, she was thankful of the kind gesture. Another name added to the list, and she groaned, realising that if she remained so lethargic and pitiful it would be more effort than it was worth to personally thank everyone if she kept letting this list of hers grow. 

Thankfully, she was currently alone in team RWBY’s dorm for the mid-afternoon, so nobody else could arrive in their pointless attempts to raise her spirits and be needlessly added to her list. Classes would be finishing soon, so it wouldn’t be longer than an hour at most before Blake and Ruby returned to check up on her. However, it seemed as if someone had already decided to beat them to it as a series of knocks came from the door to their room. Weiss rolled her eyes, she had no energy or will to deal with anyone today. It was unlocked anyway, so if they were so desperate they could just open it for themselves. Weiss pulled her blankets further up her body and sighed, wishing for whoever it was to go away. That wasn’t to be the case though, as the knocking became louder and louder as well as more persistent. Weiss groaned, knowing that she simply was going to lose out in terms of stubbornness. Even Ruby hadn’t proven to be this stubborn, so this person had to be particularly special to outdo the Rose-themed girl. 

Weiss kicked off her blankets and straightened out her nightgown that had only been removed for the briefest of showers, and pinched her nose, sighing infuriatedly. She was too dejected to properly lecture whomever was annoying her, but she could still give them an earful. 

“For the love of Dust…hasn’t anyone ever heard of privacy of patience before?” Weiss turned the door knob and found a grizzled and poorly shaven, dusty old alcoholic mid-swig of a silver and black flask that was giving off the potent and putrid smell of a strong mix of distilled ethanol. Weiss crinkled her nose at the odour, but soon looked surprised and somewhat confused at the appearance of the drunken Huntsman ahead of her.

“Mister Branwen?” Weiss asked, her sulky and dejected tone changing into one of curiosity.

Qrow ripped his attention away from his flask, looking instead to Weiss, before swallowing his drink and capping the flask “Brrrr! Strong stuff, gotta remember to buy more of this…” he stuck his tongue out from the strong flavour of his drink. “Oh, Weiss. Was wondering when you’d get your ass out of bed. Gotta say, I expected an Heiress to be more punctual. If your sister’s anything to go by I’d have thought you Schnee’s would have a detailed schedule on when to get things done…” Qrow rolled his eyes and Weiss folded her arms over her chest, her patience already wearing thin.

“What do you want, Mister Branwen?” Weiss said through narrowed eyes.

“Qrow. None of this ‘Mister’ bullshit.” 

“What do you want then, Qrow?” Weiss said, bitingly.

Qrow sighed and rubbed his temples “Sorry, been a long few days. Just came to check up on you, is all.”

“Oh…” Weiss sucked on her lip, it was going to be the same song and dance as it had been, and it just meant another name to be added to the list. ‘Wonderful…’

“Yeah. Holding in there?” He asked, pocketing his flak and leaning against the doorway. “Just asking, few times I’ve seen you your hair looks like it’s been maintained by a team of stylists, and now…let’s just say Yang puts more effort into maintaining order in her hair then you do, currently.” Qrow had a point, in the days since Yang’s injury Weiss’ attempts at keeping up her appearances seemed meaningless. Her hair had become dishevelled and slightly matted from a lack of proper brushing and only superficial shampooing and cleaning. It made the few seconds where Yang would run her hands through her hair just to move it into place appear high-maintenance. 

“I’ve been better.” Weiss said honestly, her eyes red and puffy from the crying she had been doing since the morning.

“That’s an understatement.” Weiss laughed bitterly at Qrow’s quick-wit. “I think you should get showered and changed into something more suitable for going out.” Qrow said looking at his watch.

“Mister…I mean, Qrow, I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But I am not in the right place to go outside or do anything as of right now. I just want to lie in bed.” 

“So, you’ve decided to sulk your whole life away, huh?” Qrow responded and Weiss glared at him, huffing angrily. “Don’t make me get Winter in here to chew you out, Weiss.”

“What? Winter’s here? Why?” Weiss asked a mixture of confusion and glee at the information her sister was in Vale.

“Yeah. And as much fun as I have pushing her buttons, I’d rather not piss her off by returning Weiss-less. She was given leave by old Jimmy, that’s Ironwood by the way, to come check on her little sis. She’s got a pretty good idea of what loss is like with being in the military.” Qrow explained matter-of-factly. 

“Can’t she come up here? I’m not exactly in the mood to go out…” Weiss shrugged her shoulders, looking as dejected as possible. Maybe she was trying to act a little entitled and be as lazy as she was capable of, but in all honesty, she simply wasn’t in a talkative mood. Hadn’t been since Yang’s injury. She could probably count on two hands how many full sentences she had spoken since collapsing in her bed and refusing to move in the three days of lethargic depression.

“So, you don’t want to go to the hospital then?” Weiss’ head snapped to attention, her reddened eyes focused on Qrow, seeking an explanation as to what he was implying. “Yang finally got out of surgery. I thought you’d want to be there for when she wakes up.” Weiss’s eyes continuously widened and a smile stretched out across her face. A large wave of relief washed over her entire body and she practically shuddered upon confirming what she thought Qrow had said to be reality and not simply fantasy. 

“What do you mean wakes up?! Yang’s okay?! She’s okay, correct?!” Weiss said, a mixture of excitement and trepidation bleeding into her tone as she clasped her hands together pleadingly.

“Do I look like a Doctor?” Qrow asked rhetorically “It’s not like her to kick the bucket, not without making a racket anyway, docs told me she’s gonna pull through. That’s all that matters. Now can you get ready? You look sicklier than Yang does…”

“I’ll go shower immediately!” Weiss sprinted over to her wardrobe and retrieved a clean jacket and dress before running into the bathroom, the sound of the showering shuddering to life within seconds. Qrow shook his head, and began uncapping his flask once more with a smirk on his face.

“Probably should have lead with that…live and learn.” Qrow shrugged absently before taking a sip, as he waited for Weiss to finish with her shower.

 

Weiss and Qrow walked through the courtyards of Beacon, the older man hunched over with his hands in his pockets, scowling more than even the iratest Weiss; probably because of the blinding sunlight mixed with the dimming effects of his alcohol intake making his eyes all the more sensitive towards the bright sunlight. 

At the head of the road leading out of Beacon was a long black Sedan with an Atlesian military sigil, with the eldest progeny of the Schnee descendants in the form of Winter Schnee, smiling amicably at the sight of her younger sibling. As soon as she came into sight, Weiss sprinted over to Winter and claimed in her a metal clamp-like embrace and buried her head into the chest of her sister: the point where her own height ended and Winter’s continued. Weiss did her utmost to prevent the figurative dam’s from breaking behind her eyes and letting the tears break free. Seeing her sister was usually cause for joy and celebration, as she was one of the few people she shared a blood connection to that she honestly considered family and loved unconditionally, but with all the drama and pain of the last few days she found it hard not to break down at seeing someone she loved so dearly. She felt like she could finally let it all out, and finally vocalise just how terrified and sad she was. Winter was one of the few people who could draw absolute honesty out of, though Weiss usually attempted to dodge her questions and bend the truth simply because she hated disappointing her. She idolized her sister and only wanted Winter to be proud of her. 

Weiss had expected Winter to break their hug, but found her sister’s hands softly drawing down her back in a loving caress, and relaxingly shushed the younger sibling.

“Sister!” Weiss cried happily.

“Hello, Weiss.” Winter lowered her head-on top of Weiss’ and the two stood there for a few moments, before Winter slowly pulled Weiss away from her, keeping her at arm’s reach but refused to let go of the smaller girl. “How are you doing? Are you well? How is your diet? Are you studying? What of your grades, are they high?” Weiss chuckled in the back of her throat. It was tradition for Winter to launch a volley of seemingly innocuous and typical questions any close family member would ask upon reuniting with another, but Weiss knew it was a smokescreen Winter used to cover up her own anxieties about Weiss. She was overprotective, always had been, but a life in the military hardened people. Fortunately, Winter had managed to remain warm and considerate, only changing the manner of which she inquired about her sister to appear distant. 

Weiss wanted to dissuade any notion that she wasn’t okay, but it was clear from how tightly she wound herself around Winter and her own sibling’s response to comfort Weiss through their embrace, as well as her general presence, that she was clued in to Weiss’ current emotional state. She was simply requesting confirmation from the girl herself.

Weiss shook her head, her tears started spilling over “No, I’m not, Winter. I’m not well in the slightest…” Winter ushered her closer, and held her close once more.

“The girl on your team, Miss Xiao Long?” Weiss nodded into her sister’s chest, as her hands worked through the ivory tresses whilst Weiss’ own grabbed onto Winter’s back tightly.

“It’s all my fault…” Weiss wept and snivelled. 

“Ludicrous.” Was all Winter said in the immediate few seconds. “I have read Qrow’s report, as informal and poorly written as it was…”

“Hey, not my fault Oz asked the drunk Huntsman to write a report. Not like I took this job to be a desk-jockey.” Qrow quipped back and Winter shot him a dangerous glare that he just rolled away.

“Regardless, you couldn’t have done anything, Weiss. You’re not at fault little sister.” Winter turned her attention back to Weiss, sounding commanding and assured yet also tender.

“But that’s the problem…I couldn’t do anything, I _didn’t_ even try to help Yang…she’s my…!” Weiss caught herself in the midst of spilling exactly what Yang was to her, biting her lip and internally chastising herself for being so weak.

“She’s what, Weiss?” Winter asked, and for some reason, it almost sounded like there was amusement hidden in Winter’s voice, a suspicion compounded by the sensation of Winter’s lips curving into a smile on top of Weiss’ head as she left a small kiss on the heiress’ head.

‘Does…Winter know? But how?’ Weiss’ thoughts swirled around her head as she searched for some solution to the intense equation of why Winter was supposedly finding joy in the near almost slip of the tongue from Weiss. Was it possible Winter had discovered her homosexuality? In truth, such aspects of romance and discussions about who they found attractive were conversation Winter and Weiss never really had. Perhaps their ages were too far apart for them to discuss such matters along with Winter dedicating herself to the Atlesian military just after puberty. She racked her brain for any reason at all the explain how Winter could have known, but nothing sprung to mind. Qrow could have potentially spilt the beans, but he didn’t strike Winter as they type to go and promote scandals or be so malicious.

“A-A friend, m-my precious teammate…” Weiss stumbled through her lie, using her sniffling and tears as a cover. 

“Weiss…” Winter began, her tone becoming flatter and perhaps even a little hurt. It didn’t confirm the fact that she knew of Weiss and Yang, but it did add some validity to the notion.

“I’m as thrilled of the sisterly reunion as the next guy, but we’re burning daylight here and I want to be there for my Niece when she finally wakes up.” Weiss looked out the corner of her eyes as she frowned at Qrow’s rather impatient and rude if understandable mannerisms given they were both eager to see Yang healthy and conscious again. It certainly continued to prove that Yang’s brash attitude certainly was at least influenced by her Uncle at least somewhat. Not really disagreeing with the point being made so much so as the manner in which it was expressed, as well as being thankful that Qrow gave her an excuse to avoid continuing the line of conversation Winter had planned on exploring, the three of them piled into the Sedan that was waiting with Winter and set off for the Hospital.

 

Hospitals always made Weiss feel nervous, and Vale General Hospital combined with the current set of circumstances resulting in the Heiress being present within it only heightened that particular uneasiness. 

Hospitals were meant to be a symbol of professional medical experts and treatment aimed at curing patients whilst also guiding them along the path of recovery. Though Weiss wasn’t as naïve as most, and understood that hospitals themselves usually were the theatre for the precipice of death and the culmination of life. They were essentially a holding pen, a waiting room, whilst the sick and dying waited for the inevitable to occur. Somewhere they could be comfortable and surrounded by those they cared about. They were often romanticised as facilities where life was prolonged and healing was carried out. Where custodians of human preservation and life worked their hardest for everyone’s sakes.

It was feasible the idea of Yang still being hurt still and her miserable attitude of the last few days was making Weiss think too negatively about such a simple concept as a Hospital, but she couldn’t help but admit to herself internally that there was an aspect of truth in her observations of the building. And the fact Yang was in one wore on her anxieties, worsening them, and made her think that her lover’s very future may not bode well. After all, it had been 3 days since she was whisked away in the back of an ambulance. Such an injury shouldn’t have required so much attention and time just to regain consciousness, should it? Impalement was nothing to dismiss as inconsequential, but three days of constant surgery seemed exaggerative and frightening. 

Upon entering the building, the interior combined with the images of patients awaiting consultation with their various injuries, illnesses or suspicions of their own poor health did little to alleviate Weiss’ apprehensions. The rooms and hallways were a typical sterile white that the Heiress felt camouflaged and masked in, like she was some silent and imperceptible observer to the misery and plight of the sick and lame. 

Of course, not all of the people within the hospital were so extremely deteriorated or ailing in health, but even when the number of people with minor cases of illness or injury greatly outnumbered the serious cases, the worst tended to stick with Weiss more, leading her to wine and even recoil. Weiss just wanted to walked down the bleached corridors and find Yang as soon as possible. She felt unequivocal sympathy and sorrow for the people surrounding her, but she was just a little squeamish and sensitive to physical plights and ailments. Plus, they didn’t need a clearly healthy girl gawking and shuddering at them. 

Weiss may have been a semi-trained and skilled Huntress. But Beowolves didn’t bleed. No Grimm ever bled from her blade. There was a conscious disconnect between Grimm and Humanity. Nobody ever felt sympathy or hesitation in attacking the Grimm, unless it was because they were intimidated by the monsters. Humans were an entirely different matter, and Weiss hated seeing others suffer. Her experiences of seeing it first-hand were limited however, being raised in the Schnee Estate that better resembled a palace with incredibly restrictive and protective parents (despite their limited role in actually raising her) meant Weiss hadn’t really ever seen much. A few Faunus protests were the injured and uncompensated workers banded together to march against Jacques Schnee’s business practices were the few times Weiss had really seen people bare wounds or scars. And even so, they usually were able to stand and move under their own powers. The Attack on Beacon resulted in few injuries and even fewer deaths, but Weiss hadn’t been subject to witnessing any of it, only learning of it from the subsequent reports. As a result, the visit to the hospital seemed a thousand times worse.

The three of them (Qrow, Winter and Weiss) walked through the halls of the hospital after being directed by a nurse to the room Yang was supposedly stationed in. It had only taken a momentary declaration and presentation of the badge that signified Winter as an Atlesian Military specialist to bypass any bureaucratic administration protocols and they were well on their way. Qrow made some passive-aggressive comments on ‘specialists thinking they’re so special…’ under his own breath but didn’t seem to be as perturbed as his tone suggested or the nature he regarded Winter and her fellow highly ranked colleagues in. Most likely because it was benefitting him this time, and Winter seemed quite pleased with herself as a result of that.

They took an elevator up to the third floor of the Hospital out of a total of twelve overall. It was quite large, and took up an equally impressive lot of land. This particular hospital wasn’t the only one located in Vale, but it was certainly one of the biggest and most funded out of all of its sister-facilities. It was sleek and modern, with plenty of newly invented and publicly available devices and medical instruments created by Atlas, being it was the leading Kingdom with technology both militaristically and medically even if its labour laws were slightly archaic. It was all very impressive and grandiose for a nation that prided itself on a combination of modern architecture with simplistic as well as comforting and welcoming simplicity. Weiss always appreciated the simple nature of Vale, buildings rarely rising above two to three stories tall with their highways or Atlesian sponsored or owned buildings being the few that rose above all else. It was always a nice contrast to what she had been raised with, almost as if Atlas had its head in the clouds, whereas Vale liked to keep its feet on the ground and in touch with what was going on around it. It was a cultural divergence, and an interesting one to catalogue. While it was slightly unusual to see such a contrast between the hospital’s stature and that of the rest of Vale, it wasn’t all that striking. Vale still had a very dense populace within the city and a large one at that. It needed a large facility to properly treat every patient in the city. 

Eventually they found themselves to a corridor just past a nurse’s station where there were rows of doors evenly spaced along either side with numbers and nameplates establishing just who was located within. Private rooms, for either wealthy patients or important individuals deemed high-priority cases by either the hospital or the people funding the institution. Yang was almost certainly the latter if it was true she was located in one of these rooms, Weiss proposed. Ozpin was most likely the benefactor behind Yang being located here, either that or Yang’s third-place in the Vytal Festival really had opened doors for the blonde. 

A middle-aged doctor in a white lab-coat and blue scrubs waited outside of the room, jotting something down on a table-scroll busily before looking up to see the trio of Weiss, Winter and Qrow waiting for him to notice them. He had well-maintained and short red-hair beginning to grey at the sides and spectacles balanced on the tip of his nose.

“Ah, Mister Branwen, good to see you again. I take it your compatriots here are also visiting Miss Xiao Long?” he asked.

“Nice to see you too, Doc. And yeah, Weiss here is Yang’s teammate.” Qrow gestured with a nod of his head in Weiss’ direction, and the Heiress curtseyed respectfully. 

“Thank you sincerely for treating my teammate. I hope she didn’t give you any trouble, Doctor…?” Even in the current circumstances, the heiress still found herself making jokes despite herself. Perhaps Yang really was fundamentally changing her, opening her up and making her more personable to the wider world. It was just another reason she couldn’t bear to lose Yang. Not with all the good being with Yang was doing her. She had to remain hopeful, after all Qrow had indicated Yang was going to wake up. That meant Yang would be okay, she simply had to continue to convince herself of that fact. Regardless, Weiss stopped mid-sentence, realising she had yet to learn of the Physician’s name. 

“Where are my manners? My name is Doctor Maple. I’ve been in charge of Miss Xiao Long’s treatment and recovery post-surgeries.” Maple explained, aloof to his own lack of introduction, seeming slightly embarrassed by it. 

Weiss’ head dipped at the mention of surgeries. Multiple. The implication being, of course, that it wasn’t as simple as one would have assumed. She looked up with her eyes, her head tilted downwards, at the taller man. “You mean…she’s had more than one?” Weiss looked as Maple’s expression hardened a little, before looking at a sheepish Qrow.

“Yes. Unfortunately, the Weapon Miss Xiao Long was wounded with was imbued with a thin layer of an active Dust augmentation. It was quite rare and we wouldn’t have picked up on it without Mister Branwen’s expertise.” Qrow rubbed at the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed by the praise.

“Yeah, I know my Sister pretty well. She’s smart enough to know a weapon alone isn’t always enough to kill a target. So, she always made sure to use the smallest but deadliest variation of Dust known to man, that has been banned by most Huntsmen organisations due to its deadly nature: Poison. ‘Course, sis doesn’t care much about protocols or laws. I was able to warn them as soon as Yang arrived.” Qrow explained.

“Exactly. Even so, it’s mostly unprecedented because of how many people actually chose to follow ethical code, and because of the minute nature of the poison in question it required near constant observation and surgical intervention to prevent it from doing irreparable damage. Despite a few sleepless nights, Miss Xiao Long should be fine.” 

“So, you mean…?” Weiss started, full of hope.

“She should make a full recovery. Plenty of bed rest though, and I would recommend absolutely no Huntsmen activities for the next three to four weeks’ minimum.” He said, with a wide smile “Of course, if you want my personal opinion I would suggest never participating in any Huntsmen activities ever, they don’t tend to prolong one’s life.” He jested with a hearty laugh.

“No can do, Doc, the Firecracker isn’t one for sitting at a desk and filing paper work. Would probably bore her to death. Kill her quicker than a Nevermore ever could.” Qrow said with a crooked smile. They all shared a laugh between themselves at the idea of Yang getting progressively more and more enraged at with writing up reports at a desk until she burst into flames.

“I assume you wish to see her then?” Weiss gave an affirmative and eager nod, answering for the group. “Of course. Keep in mind she has been through a lot and may be in some pain still. We’ve been limiting the amount of artificial aura we’re healing her with as well as the dosage of her painkillers, just to be on the safe side. Try also to be quiet, she was still sleeping the last time I checked.” 

“Of course, I will be as quiet as a mouse.” Weiss smiled, wrapping her hands together out of impatience. She just wanted to see Yang. She’d agree to anything. All she wanted was to verify Yang’s condition and put her mind at ease. 

Doctor Maple turned the handle and pushed it open, light filtering through Weiss’ eyes and immediately blinding her for a few brief seconds until the shape and objects in the room bended into their correct shape and became perceivable. Along the back wall of the room was a long screen window stretching from each side of the room. There was a small hallway by the door with another door opened displaying a small bathroom with all the essentials that were decorated to mirror that of an attractive hotel. Ahead of that was the room itself, with a singular bed placed in the corner of the room along with two bedside table on either end, the one closest to the window having a potted plant on it. The room was coloured a mixture of cream and burgundy, giving it a nice contrasting and yet vaguely similar tone to that of the rest of the hospital to give it a sense of individualism and comfort in knowing you were in a medical facility meant to improve your health and care for you. There was a small television in the upper corner directly opposite the bed, attached to the wall. It wasn’t incredibly big, but it was modern enough to show the hospital hadn’t skimped out on the price. Additionally, a brown sofa was placed on the opposite wall to that of the bed adjacent to it along with several paintings and photographs taken by what was certainly experts in their respective fields to give the room some personality. A nurse was attending to an IV drip leading into Yang’s arm. Once she was done with the minor task, she stepped away and walked over to the three new occupants of the room.

“Good afternoon, Mister Branwen, would it be possible for you to come with me to sign some paperwork as Miss Xiao Long’s guardian?”

“Sure, why not?” Qrow looked over to Winter and Weiss “I’ll be gone a few minutes. You two keep an eye on Yang.” 

After Qrow had left, closing the door as he did so, Weiss walked over with her sister and pulled a plastic chair to the side of Yang’s bed and watched her lover intensely. Her hands clasped tightly onto the material of her skirt, balling into fists over it as she stared at Yang’s form. The blonde breathed slowly, methodically, and near lifelessly. The heart-rate monitor Yang was hooked up to beeped rhythmically, the electronic graph jumping whenever it did so without any deviation. It indicated a healthy if weakened physical state, and Weiss sighed loudly, just happy Yang wasn’t just clinging to life but wrestling with it.

She was dressed in a hospital gown, a blanket drawn around the middle of her stomach with her right arm resting on top of it. Her face was expressionless and paler than usual, and Weiss could feel herself choking up, tears stinging behind her eyes. It wasn’t right for Yang to be so inert and languid. Yang did have a habit of being lazy and procrastinated activities like homework that she wasn’t passionate about, but never did she remain so listless unless she couldn’t help it. Even her snoring seemed as if she was putting every inch of her strength into, at least it usually would. Now there was nary a whimper escaping her lips.

Weiss felt Winter’s hands come to rest atop her shoulders, and her soothing sisterly voice far more experienced than her own came to offer her guidance “She’s fine, little sister. You need not worry.”

“But…she’s still like this because I couldn’t stop it from happening.” Weiss regressed back to her guilt, the feeling stabbing her deep in the chest.

“Weiss, we can’t control every little aspect of the world around us. You’ll never be able to accept defeat, and grow as both a Huntress and a person, if your blame yourself for every little drawback. Sometimes, bad things just happen. But rather than let them encircle you and drown you in your own sorrow, learn from them and become resolute in your desire to make sure they can never happen again.” Weiss sighed, knowing Winter was right and that reprimanding herself for Yang’s injury didn’t do her any good. She looked up to her sister with that same look of esteem she had always afforded her sister.

“How are you so smart when it comes to such matters?” Weiss inquired, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Because, Weiss, I have made plenty of my own mistakes.” Winter give her a wink, which confused Weiss, as she wasn’t entirely aware of any mistakes Winter had really ever made in her life. But she let it slide, at it seemed innocuous enough.

“Winter…may I ask, why are you here?” Weiss asked her sister, and Winter raised her eyebrow questioningly of Weiss. “You’re not really here because General Ironwood gave you leave, correct?” Weiss had her suspicions, from the beginning. Whilst she was sure Winter was here out of the kindness of her own heart, she doubted Ironwood gave let her be here out of his own. The Atlesian military was about efficiency and duty, not emotions and charity. Winter chewed the inside of her mouth, apparently caught in thought for a few seconds and then shook her head.

“No. I am not. The opportunity to make sure you were okay combined with my actual being here just happened to coincide.” Winter admitted, her voice becoming quieter and neutral. 

“Then why? Is it for a mission?” Weiss looked down to her lap, finding her own resolve to keep eye contact with Winter waning. Winter herself scoffed a little, amusement filtering into her voice although it sounded sardonic.

“Classified, I’m afraid.” She sounded less than pleased by her own admission.

“I see.” Weiss set about dusting off the top of her skirt and dress trying to act casually. It was fair to say being lied to and having the exact truth concealed from her made the atmosphere between the two siblings awkward, even if Weiss was used to Winter regulating the level of honesty she could give to Weiss about her occupation. It was clear Winter didn’t like to lie outwardly or simply through omission, but it didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow for Weiss, though she did sympathise with her sister. Military life was infinitely more liberating then being her Father’s heiress to be sculpted however he chose, but it came with its own set of detractions. 

They sat in momentary silence, Winter wordlessly trying to coax a follow up question or more casual and upbeat response or countenance from her younger sister through a gentle massage of her shoulders, but was given nothing. A small mumble came from in front of Weiss, and with widened eyes, her head snapped up and saw the arm of Yang Xiao Long rubbing at her own tired and glazed eyes, like despite the fact she had been asleep for the past 72 hours had never happened. Her lips parted in a large yawn. She failed to sit upright, instead being propped up at the angle of the tilted bed. 

“Hey, how long have I been out?” Yang asked tiredly, distantly. As if she wasn’t quite aware exactly what had happened or where she really was. 

Weiss looked up to Winter with palpable shock mixed with delight, and Winter just smiled back. Leaning down to plant a small kiss on her sister’s forehead. 

“I’ll leave you two to yourselves. I’ll be right outside. We can talk more, later.” Weiss nodded and watched Winter as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

Weiss turned back to Yang. The blonde was still busy wiping the sleep out of her eyes, though it seemed to have done her little good from her lethargy. Weiss didn’t know what to say, or even what to think. Yang was okay, and she was thrilled and relieved, but also angry. Angry at herself. Winter was right about trying to move past her mistakes and learn from them, but emotions are difficult beasts to quell. They weren’t like Grimm, easily slayed with a slash of metal and magic. They lingered and tormented. 

Yang eventually seemed to regain enough of her faculties to stare wide-eyed at the ivory haired girl and tilted her head slightly to the side. 

“Uh, Weiss? You okay in there?” Weiss locked eyes with Yang and realised she had been lost in her thoughts momentarily. 

“S-Sorry, just a lot on my mind is all.” 

“I’ll say, you look worse than me!” Yang smirked albeit dogged by her tired muscles that looked ready to collapse from the stress of just contracting. Weiss managed a little laugh, though it wasn’t energetic. “Do I want a mirror?” Yang winced to emphasise her anxieties. She didn’t look too bad, all things considered, but then again Yang didn’t spend much time on her looks. She was just naturally beautiful. 

“No, but you may want a hairbrush.” Weiss teased.

“It would be nice to have something to throw at you.” Yang quipped back. Weiss smiled, despite the sluggishness and unanimated motion of Yang’s body it was nice to have their regular back and forth once more. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Weiss inquired, softly and Yang nodded with a wide grin streaking across her face.

“Yeah, some.... thirst-aid would be really nice!” Weiss groaned whilst Yang chuckled quietly, her voice unable to hit its regular levels of booming octaves. 

“I’m glad to see your humour certainly isn’t any worse for wear. Well, not glad, but it’s good to know you can make awful jokes at the very least.” Weiss walked over to the bathroom, where she was fortunate enough to find a few empty glasses. She filled one just over halfway and proceeded to return to Yang.

Yang laughed a little at Weiss’ displeasure of her sense of humour. “Would you mind entertaining me for a moment?” Yang asked and Weiss nodded, curious. “What happened, after I got stabbed, I remember that. Pretty vividly too.”

Weiss’ hands tightened on the glass, her hands shaking only a little. She sat down, holding onto the glass and stared into her own small reflection and its meek expression in the water. “After…after you were stabbed, Qrow caught the Faunus you were fighting. We got you an ambulance pretty quickly too. It's been three days since and...I'm just glad you're okay...” Weiss reached over, and grasped Yang's hand tight, the blonde weakly reciprocating and giving Weiss a smile that sent her heart aflutter. She was so happy to see Yang smile at all, something she had convinced herself she would never see again. However, Yang's smile soon faded.

“What about my…Mother?” Yang tried to sound as mediated as possible, but it was clear she had mixed feelings over giving Raven that title. It almost sounded entirely factual with no attempt to include sentiment.

The door to the room squeaked open and Qrow appeared from behind it. The two girls regarded him carefully as he sauntered further into the room, once more uncapping his flask to drink from it.  
“Leave the explanations to me, Weiss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the latest chapter~
> 
> Hurray! Yang's not dead! Not that anyone ever expected her to be but still cause for celebration!
> 
> Doctor Maple got his name because I was feeling uncreative with names for a minor character. 
> 
> So, if we picked up on the implication from Winter's "Classified" line, Atlas is once again sticking it's nose in matters not directly related to it. What could that mean? 
> 
> Yang and Weiss share a nice few fluffy moments, and of course one of the first things Yang does after waking up is make an awful joke. And the loose thread of Yang's Mother kills the mood between the two lover's, curse you Raven, even indirectly you're causing problems for our Freezerburn romance! *Shakes fist at*


	15. The Lens of Green, the Past of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silver meets Ozpin, and the past of Viridian is explored.

Only a few hours had passed since Silver had fought Yang and seen the Huntress be horrifically injured by the blade of Raven. He had been held in custody the entire time with little conversation between him and his captors. That was until, they had escorted him under the cover of night during the early hours of the following morning with the moon high in the sky, observing all who walked underneath it’s all omnipotent gaze. 

Silver stood in the elevator of Beacon Tower as it ascended towards the apex of the tower. His hands were bound in front of him with aura-dampening handcuffs, which was probably for the best, at least for the man stood next to him: General James Ironwood. If Silver had the opportunity, he’d gut the man in a heartbeat. Morality be damned, he’d eviscerate him without a second thought. 

Out of all the men on the Atlesian council Ironwood was ironically probably the least racist. However, that didn’t stop him from colluding with Jacques Schnee and turning a blind eye to his horrible Faunus-rights violations and general treatment of Silver’s species. It made Ironwood guilty by omission of action and association. That was more than enough reason to motivate Silver to kill the man stood to his side. Not to mention he had incredibly discriminatory conscription and enlisting criteria which meant that the human soldiers in his army vastly outnumbered the Faunus numbers, though reforms had started to change that, but it was too little too late to change Silver’s opinion on the man.

As for blonde woman flanking his other side, she he didn’t know. The most likely scenario was that she was one of Ozpin’s most trusted confidants or lieutenants. Regardless, she was steely and noticeably more intimidating than Ironwood, though he put that down to the fact she was carrying a riding crop. He had been around Red long enough that seeing something like that led to the immediate assumption she was either into some kinky shit that he wanted no part of, or it was a ridiculously powerful weapon. Either way, it was better to stay on her good side than not.

“Mind taking these off? They’re a little uncomfortable.” Silver raised his restrained hands and was provided with a sideways look from the blonde that was somewhere in between derisive and impressed he had the stones to ask at all.

“No.” Ironwood responded authoritatively and Silver simply shrugged in acknowledgement. 

“Hey, not like I’d run. I’m in the middle of an elevator.” Silver pointed out and his two escorts rolled their eyes at him.

“It would be best if you were quiet.” The woman said tersely.

“I’m not hearing an argument against my logic.” Silver mocked in a sing-song voice. 

“You’re highly dangerous and you’re a prisoner. Elevator or not, the handcuffs stay on.” Ironwood stated matter-of-factly.

Silver shrugged once more, indifferently. “Only dangerous to you General, only to you.” Silver looked quizzical at the Atlesian “Come to think of it, why are you here? I mean, if they sent a Four-star General just for little old me then don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but that seems a tad extreme. You have different reasons for being here, don’t you?”

“That’s classified.” Ironwood replied, steely. 

“How original. Where did you get that answer, the big book of Military clichés?” 

The elevator buzzed to indicate it had reached their destination before the doors slid apart and revealed a circular room. It was supported by several pillars along the outside with a singular plane of glass running the entirety of the room for the full 360 degrees. The clicking and grinding of gears could be heard overhead in a rhythmic fashion. The floor was oddly reflective, tinted in a dark onyx. At the end of the room adjacent to the elevator was a curved desk with two chairs on either side, the one facing Silver and his escorts occupied by a silver-haired individual that wore a combination of black and green. Silver knew of the reclusive man well, and also not at all. It was paradoxical, yet accurately true. Many knew of him, but knew little about him. 

He was the headmaster of Beacon Academy: Professor Ozpin. 

Silver took a few tentative steps into the room, looking about it and simply observing the architecture of the room, until Ozpin opted to end the silence between them swiftly. 

“Mister Aloi, a pleasure to meet you. I am Professor Ozpin. Would you like a seat?” He gestured to the empty chair and Silver scoffed. 

“Save the pleasantries and cut to the chase.” Silver bit back, perhaps more harshly than he intended. Then again, ever since the battle with the Huntress and Raven earlier that day he had been held in custody within a cell that was none too comfortable and with few commodities to entertain himself with. Being frustrated was the natural response.

“My apologies, I have been told you are not a patient man. I will attempt to keep this short.” Silver nodded in agreement and walked about casually, rejecting any offer to sit down. Though he mostly did it to avoid Ozpin. You didn’t become the headmaster of a Huntsmen academy without serious credentials and skill in Hunting. If Silver were to be honest with himself, the man evoked fear inside of him like he had never felt. “I wish to offer you an opportunity. A way to better your life potentially. Something I offered the rest of your team, and now any decision hinges upon your own answer.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You talked to my team?! How?!” Silver asked, incredulous. There shouldn’t have been anyway for Ozpin to have tracked down his team. Not unless Raven gave them up, but her lack of presence suggested otherwise.

“I am well aware of everything that occurs in my Kingdom, Mister Aloi. Miss Aurora has quite a temper and was very aggressive until I mentioned you were in custody and under my protection as well as jurisdiction.”

Silver growled, barely holding back his rage “I swear to Dust, if you touched a hair on her head…!” Silver began before Ozpin motioned to interrupt him.

“I can assure you no physical harm came to her. Or any other member of your team, for that matter. Upon mentioning you she became quite docile and worried. At that point, I managed to make my offer, of which I will now make to you: I wish to enlist you all in my academy.”

Silver stared at him, perplexed and amused “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“This is no attempt at humour. Mister Aloi, as I understand it you were working for a former subordinate and trusted student of mine: Raven Branwen. After today’s events, I managed to strike a deal with her.” 

“You managed to negotiate a deal with Raven, despite her known abhorrence towards you and your methods? Forgive my scepticism, but that is bullshit.” 

“Admittingly even I remain unconvinced whether or not she will hold up to her end of the bargain. In all honesty, negotiations may be a slight stretch as towards what our conversation entailed. We agree to keep the status quo, I could not afford to be overly aggressive knowing she is holding me and Vale to ransom with the codes your procured for her.” 

“You’re welcome for that, by the way.” Silver smirked devilishly.

“Quite.” Ozpin replied somewhat sarcastically, though even that seemed mired in uncertainty. “The nature of the agreement was one where she would continue her own individual attempts at defeating Salem however she wished, in exchange for her bequeathing me your services as well as passing over any information she obtains as soon as she’s learnt it. As I have previously stated, I have no reason to trust her, but somewhere she still wishes to defend and protect lives, even if it is in her selfish interest. I also have her daughter attending my school, so she has reason not to disrupt the delicate balance of power.” 

“And you believe we’ll just roll over at your beck and call, like good mindless students? I know exactly why this school exists, Ozpin. It’s a literal human meat shield against Salem. You’re happy to play god with children’s lives. Well I, for one, don’t plan on taking the bullet for you.” Silver snarled.

“I am well aware of how this must look from your perspective. Raven believes my methods are not positive enough and that I am happy to sit idly by as Salem tears down every brick of my kingdom, nor does she believe I am fit for leadership. She may even have a point about that, but the intention of this school is not to use children as literal shields. It is to train warriors who are willing to fight for any nation and any people, for humanity. Not for a flag or for Lien. They all know fully well what being a Huntsmen means and what it will entail. Few Huntsmen ever make it to a comfortable retirement for a reason. They are under no illusion, and they are not coerced into this life. It is a choice made by the just and heroic. Those who are ready to lay their lives down for their fellow man, not out of obligation, but out of simple human decency.” Silver scoffed as Ozpin finished his little rant, it was pragmatism and idealism mixed into one, and yet it wasn’t as upsetting and revolting as Silver had anticipated. 

There was a respectful element within the philosophy, something that even Silver thought aligned with his own, but it wasn’t one the Wolf-Faunus could so easily buy into. He couldn’t and wouldn’t respect authority, in a way he was an anarchist. Everyone was selfish and looked out for themselves first and foremost, authority was no different. Rather than label it as corrupt, he simply labelled it as being “Ordinarily human”. He knew that Ozpin may talk of creating heroes but the reality was that he was simply building up shields and weapons to protect his own interests. It just so happened humanity was part of his investment and they benefitted as a result. It was morally ambiguous, and Silver couldn’t stand upon the moral high-ground after helping Raven, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of criticising other ideas. Ozpin’s entire argument came across like it was a sales pitch, one that would not catch Silver out and make him consider the alternative. Not if he had a say in the matter.

“But that is beside the point. I have another factor which you may want to consider. Isn’t what you want more than anything, a safe and easy life for Viridian?” Ozpin leaned forward, peering over his glasses in an analytical and predatorial way. 

“Yes.” Silver said through gritted teeth, the admission was only difficult because he didn’t like people using his lover against him. It was a weak point for him and he was very aware of just how easy it was to exploit. 

“Then perhaps you should consider my offer. We have some of the most advanced medical and psychiatric care in the world here at Beacon along with a safe and secure environment for your team. You could finally know what it’s like to live exactly as you’ve always wanted. Miss Aurora could be taught how to better deal with her conditions, and you could ensure an easier life for you all. So, the question is, Silver, are you really willing to sacrifice the chance at a peaceful existence because of your own perception of my Academy? You’ve lived a difficult life. Perhaps you should grab the opportunity with both hands to improve it for yourself and your siblings. This is not something that everyone gets.” Ozpin question, and his argument was practically faultless. Silver realised he could give Viridian everything, he could finally give her everything she ever deserved and more. A meaningful life where they could actually contribute. It would mean giving in and becoming part of the system, but at this point he was already subservient. It was either bend the knee or be locked away forever. And if he was locked away, he’d be betraying his principles more than if he accepted Ozpin’s offer. He wouldn’t be able to help those in need, and worst of all he wouldn’t be able to protect Viridian. It was just so grating to know from the limited experience Ozpin had in talking to both him and his team that he had analysed Silver down to the minutest detail. The man truly did have skills and attributes making him worthy of being a leader, even if the methods both he and Silver would implement would be wildly different. 

“And what makes you so determined to offer someone like me such a fantastic opportunity at bettering themselves? I did try to kill one of your students earlier, remember? Why put so much faith in someone who will never completely buy into your philosophy and may run at the first chance he gets? We both know this is a Quid Pro Quo situation. So, what do you want?” Silver asked, though he sounded resigned to accepting Ozpin, the little fight he had left slowly ebbing away into nothingness. 

“Because I am aware Miss Aurora is the Summer Maiden. And I cannot allow her to fall into the wrong hands. Just like you, Mister Aloi, I want to protect her. We both share that goal, though for different reasons. And I believe in second chances, more than that, if I were to dismiss you because of your previous transgressions how could I ever argue from a point of morality? The role of leaders is not to subjugate and judge, but inspire. I wish to inspire you, and show you just why I believe it is not my methods that will defeat Salem, but the hope and willpower of humanity; lead first and foremost by the Huntsmen and Huntresses I train here. Faunus and man alike. It is never too late to turn back from a darkened path, and you still fight for righteousness more than anything. You are a good person, all four members of your team are. You just need some guidance.” The honesty from Ozpin, despite the grave nature he spoke in, was a welcome change of pace for Silver. “But there something I want to know, a conundrum I have never been able to solve, one I believe you can aid me in properly understanding.” Silver raised his eyebrow, genuinely curious by what Ozpin was asking of him. “The fate of the previous Summer Maiden. Given Viridian’s last name, I assume she is the direct descendent of her: Dawn Aurora.”

“You know she’s the Summer Maiden?” Silver sought confirmation of Ozpin’s assertion. At this point, Ozpin’s omniscience was less terrifying as it was frustrating. Was there any privacy or secrecy left for the mercenary outfit that he commanded? Most likely not, but it wouldn’t stop him from complaining or questioning it even if it was futile.

“As I said, I have eyes everywhere. A little bird, a crow to be exact, told me what happened in Forever Fall. It was impressive, if gruesome and merciless. Now, about my question in regards to the previous Summer Maiden…” Ozpin began, motioning for Silver to continue.

Silver looked out through the window of the tower, staring past his sombre reflection. It was late at night, and the shattered moon made the perfect backdrop the twilight that was tinting Beacon with a vaguely glimmer of mystery and romance. He watched a couple of students long out after the curfew was meant to have been enforced, and he smiled absently at them as they set about their night of splendour and innocent fun, ignorant and blissfully unaware of the machinations that lied just below the surface of the world of Remnant. He wished for that life for him and Viridian. To live the simple life of unaware and joyful children, running hand in hand like nothing could ever stop them. But that wasn’t this world, not for him. Although, he could claim at least a small part of that dream and make it reality. Fantasy could transform itself into tangible existence, and all he had to do was repeat the fractured story that Viridian had told him from what seemed like so long ago. With a weary and detached voice, Silver began to speak again.

“Viri has never had the greatest recollection of her past. It’s usually fractured and contradictory, details always changing and morphing into an entirely different tale. It’s hard to separate and discriminate between what her illness makes her think and what she truly sees. But there is one memory, one instance, one thing she readily retains and recollects without fail or deviation. It’s not a happy one, but it reminds her underneath all the psychotic bloodshed and blurring of reality, she’s human. So, if you’ll afford me the time, let me spin you a tale. The tale of the Death of the last Summer Maiden…”

 

_It had been so long ago, before the fires of insanity had first made their way to Viridian and torched her young and delicate mind beyond recognition, every day she thought back to that initial encounter as naught but a child. The memories became more and more muddied in the details, but those striking images always remained ever so clear. But with enough effort it could all come roaring back._

_Her Mother, stood in front of their wooden shack in a beautiful white dress, tending to the flowers and pulling the weeds from the ground without even a touch of her hand, a simple flex of her hand and it practically obeyed the command to stop insulting the beauty of her flora. She whistled sweetly, completely absorbed in her hobby, the blinding sun beating down harshly. As such, she wore a large straw hat, though even at her own age Viridian knew full well it was more a fashion statement than a necessity. Whilst she knew little of her Mother’s power, and understood even less, she knew that the sun was practically subservient to her Mother. No matter how long she stood out in the sun, it could never harm nor burn her. It would merely stare straight at her, admiring her until the moon took its place._

_Viridian paralleled the sun, admiring her Mother as she let the door to their wooden shack close by itself, holding a stuffed animal tight to her chest, the details of what animal it was had long been lost to the confines of history and the annals of her mind. The sound of the shutting door drew her Mother’s attention, she looked over curiously, before her lips curled into a soft smile at the appearance of the shy and quiet girl, traits which would never exactly fade from her character rather than be blurred into a deep combination of so many others they were lost amongst the shuffle._

_“Viri, what are you doing up so early?” Her Mother asked with a small gesture and teasing nature at the idea of the young child being awake so early. In response, the child adequately rubbed the sleep from her tired eyes and groaned in annoyance._

_“Wanted to see you, Momma. You’re pretty when looking after the flowers…” her Mother blushed slightly and giggled, setting down her small shovel for moving dirt and creating craters for new flora to be placed in before standing up to look at her daughter._

_“Such a flatterer! But we can’t tend to a garden without breakfast, can we?” as always, Viridian could never argue with her Mother or her simply supreme logic. She nodded and extended her hand for her Mother to grasp, to which her Mother chuckled and placed her hands on her hips. “Viri, you’re five now! Someday you’ve gotta be a big girl and not need to hold Momma’s hand everywhere!”_

_Viridian pouted, childishly as was expected of her and was also just a part of her nature regardless. They didn’t have much, possessions in the wildlands of Mistral were few and far between. Survival was the most one could wish for, and yet despite living in the lands that even the strongest of Huntsman and Huntresses would give a wide berth she had never encountered a Grimm. Nor a bandit. It was an unequivocal peace. “I wanna hold onto Momma’s hand though, I wanna…” she earnt herself another teasing chuckle from her Mother and found her hand enveloped in her Mother’s soft and comforting grasp._

_She sighed “You’re lucky you’re so adorable, Viri. My perfect angel.” Viridian couldn’t prevent herself from unleashing her own smile now, equally as bright and cheerful as her own Mother’s. Her Mother opened up the door to the shack. It wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination spectacular or large, it was confined to three rooms: One dining room with a small table and three chairs surrounding it with two additional bedrooms to either side of the room. The wood was dark and damp, moss and mould was growing in the corners of the room and there was scarce any decorations or personalisation’s to the shack itself. There was a table at the adjacent end to the door, with a single picture framed atop of it. Viridian skipped over to the picture and pulled herself up by the edge the desk, that creaked, with her feet dangling just above the ground. “Are you saying hello to Daddy?” Her Mother asked as she began clicking her fingers together, igniting her ancient stove that connected through the ceiling of the house to billow smoke outside the house._

_“Yup! Hi Daddy!” Viridian exclaimed happily, swinging on the edge of the desk as she looked straight at the photo. Her Mother stood there happily, in the photo, with a slight bump to her stomach that must have been Viridian. The background showed a much more populated city, the two adults in the picture being photographed in the midst of a street on the edge of a pier with a sprawling ocean behind them. The gently setting sun dyeing the ocean a golden orange, perfectly framing the beauty and serenity of the location and atmosphere. And there was her Father, a man in light-weight silver and black Huntsmen armour. He had wavy black hair, his well-built but still lithe figure had an arm wrapped securely around her Mother’s waist. They shared the same hopeful young look in their eyes. “Hope you’re doing okay, Daddy! We’re about to eat breakfast!” it was a slightly null point, for Viridian’s Father had been dead since before her birth. That picture was the last piece of memorabilia Viridian had of her Father before he was sent off to quell an uprising of Faunus. Regardless she was a religiously devout child, much like all are when they are naïve and young. She believed her Father was waiting in the next life, and that if she were a good girl he would be there for her to catch up on all the time they had lost. Her Mother never had the heart to explain death or the reality of life to the child. What parent could? It would be cruel. Instead, she allowed Viridian her fantasies, and partially hoped for them herself._

_“Now, now, Viri. Give your Daddy a break, and prepare the table, okay?” her Mother asked, and Viridian jumped down to the floor below before zooming off to her Mother’s side._

_“Can we have pancakes?!” Viridian inquired energetically, waving her arms so fast it was like she was about to take flight._

_Her Mother shook her head in a light-hearted laugh “No my angel, sometimes we have to eat healthily. We’re going to have porridge and fruit.” Viridian gawked at the idea but collected the required cutlery for the meal and set two places before taking her own seat, which required a little climbing. Although she had been growing, so with each passing day the climb was becoming shorter than the last._

_Suddenly, although muffled and distant, Viridian could hear an incredibly alien sound like the roaring of a metallic bear from outside of the homestead, followed by the slamming of doors and the stomping of boots on the muddy and moist ground. She looked to her Mother, concerned and confused about the sudden commotion. It surely couldn’t have been other human beings, rarely was anybody brave enough to travel into such inhospitable territory nor congregate there in large swaths, and yet that is exactly what it sounded like._

_Her Mother stopped cooking momentarily, her regular look of carefree joy melted away slowly and she stepped away from the stove, looking towards the door to the shack. “Viri, can you be a really good girl for Mommy?” Her Mother looked back to her child, now stood and nodding energetically. “Wait under your bed in your room, okay? Don’t come out until Mommy comes for you. Don’t come out until I come back for you. Okay?” she drove the point home, brandishing her finger at the child authoritatively._

_“Why Mommy? What’s wrong? Was I bad?” Viridian was very distressed but her Mother quashed the fears she was the culprit for the time being by shaking her head._

_“I need you to go and hide in your room. Under the bed. Just for now, just for Mommy, okay?” Viridian nodded and took a few steps away from her Mother but was turned around in a tight embrace. “Mommy loves you, my perfect Angel. It’ll be okay, understand?” Viridian clung tightly to her Mother and nodded into her shoulder. Her Mother let go, finally and the girl ran into her small room._

_The room was miniscule, it was only just big enough to fit her child-sized bed across the back wall. But still, Viridian squeezed herself under the bed, only after closing the door to her room of course. She huddled tight to herself, pulling her knees into her chest and slowed her breathing, much like her Mother had always instructed her when she was told to hide. Apparently, it was to a technique to reduce noise so predators couldn’t hear you as easily, but never before had Viridian ever been so frantically instructed to actually hide._

_From outside all Viridian could hear was shouting, angry and demanding ultimatums from a group of men. It was too muffled through the walls for her to make out the minutia of the details from the conversation, but from the orders of her Mother to hide and the men’s apparent tone it couldn’t be anything positive. Soon enough, the metallic scrapes of swords being drawn and weapons being loaded made Viridian flinch in fear. She started to cry, fearful for her Mother, wanting nothing more than for her embrace to quell her fears._

_In response to the sounds of weapons, the roars of fire erupted, tinting the light of Viridian’s room a bright and powerful orange. Even from within her own room the heat of her Mother’s flames caused the young girl to sweat hard, her shirt and shorts clinging tight to her body and her breathing turned ragged. She tried her best to focus on her breathing, but the pained screams of the men outside terrified and distracted her. They were nightmarish and miserable, pure agony and suffering in distinct and horrifying forms. She shuddered and whimpered, wishing for it to be over._

_Suddenly, the flames died off with a loud bang coming quickly after, followed by abject silence. Terrible silence, only the sounds of the dying flames trickling away as they burnt into embers to be scattered into the void. Viridian crawled out from under her bed and raced to the front door and she grabbed for the doorknob. She recoiled in pain at the searing heat from the knob. She sharply gasped at the stinging, shaking her hand in order to shake away the pain. Looking down the young girl could see the arching white shape of the burn plastering her flesh. She kept hold of her hand, making sure not to move it to cause herself anymore unnecessary pain as she grabbed a towel from the side and covered the doorknob, to mitigate the intense heat, with it before flinging the door open quickly.  
Horror was what awaited her. Pure and utter dread filled the entire world. _

_Black. The world was uncontaminated and absolute black. The ground all around their house was a deep, dark and smouldering murky black. Occasionally some small patches of darkened or miscoloured grass cropped up, but it was the exception rather than the rule now. Her Mother’s garden, once a beautiful tapestry of nature’s finest elements was reduced to ashes apart from a single Dandelion, its petals still glowing from the dying flames that had been threatening its existence. With a few quick blinks of her eyes, Viridian finally took in the worst of it all: The burnt corpses. Almost as if frozen in time their faces were stuck in the midst of their screams of pain. Some lay curled as they clawed at the now burnt skin. All of them were transfixed in their positions, their limbs and torsos melted into the ground below them._

_Viridian couldn’t even scream, nor run, nor even weep out of the variety of emotions welling up within her. It wasn’t possible for her to properly process exactly what had happened. She wasn’t even aware of her own breathing, eventually being shaken out of her numbed observation by it. She brought her hands up to her chest and clutched onto the material of her shirt, walking with uncertain balance, like her limbs might give way beneath her. Every new sensation became the worst aspect, the smell of these mutilated men was so offensive she collapsed and wretched, coughing and gagging as she emptied her stomach. She wiped the remaining contents from her mouth and heaved hard, finally crying and allowing her emotions to spill out._

_“V-Viri…is that you, my angel?” a voice croaked out towards her with barely any strength or conviction behind it. Viridian looked up, to see a woman in a crimson dress led amidst all the corpses. She crawled over and noticed not all the dress was crimson, but only the waistline and stomach. Viridian ignored the voice in the back of her mind telling her what she knew to be true, trying her best to convince herself that the woman in front of her was not in fact her Mother, and if it was that the crimson of her dress wasn’t her blood leaking out from within her. But it was a losing battle, and through croaking sobs, Viridian nodded._

_“Y-Yes Mommy…w-what…are you…why?” Viridian couldn’t form a coherent line of thought of question to ask her Mother. Instead, an almost ironic chuckle was the response her Mother gave her followed by a spluttering cough of blood._

_She shushed her daughter, lifting a shaking hand to brush the girl’s hair behind her ear in a Motherly gesture “Calm down, no tears…” she ordered, Viridian doing her best to stop the flow of moisture and calm her breathing “Viri, I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I never wanted this to happen, never wanted you to know the pain of loss because of my powers. I guess I was kidding myself. I guess deep down, I knew one day Salem would send her pawns to find me. I’m so sorry, my Angel…” her Mother’s apologies made no sense to Viridian, who only began to cry again. Her Mother’s cryptic words and request for forgiveness whipped up her emotions as quickly as they had died down._

_“I don’t understand! Why is this happening?!” Viridian begged her Mother, who calmly brought her now shaking finger to her child’s lips to quieten her. Her vision felt like it was becoming strained, the image of her Mother started pulling and stretching beyond any reasonable comprehension. The colour of the world was becoming distorted and chaotic, and indescribable images were blotting her sight. Her head seared in pain, as if it was about to explode from an invisible pressure. And then the voices set in. Small and silent._

_‘We’ll love you Viridian…’_

_‘We’ll never leave you, Viridian. Not like she is.’_

_‘She hates you, Viridian.’_

_‘You should kill her, Viridian. How dare she try and die on you?!’_

_‘Yes! Kill! Kill! Kill!’_

_‘Kill!’_

_‘Kill!’_

_‘Kill!”_

_They endlessly repeated the order. Similar to a beating drum picking up in both pitch and volume whilst being so insistent that Viridian could hear nothing else. The roaring fires were like dust in the wind, completely muted and inconsequential. She just wanted it to stop. She just wanted her Mother to make it all go away._

_Good god, why wouldn’t it just go away?_

_And then: Silence. The brush of her Mother’s hand brought back serenity and peace of mind to the young girl, as they locked eyes once more. The dull eyes of her mother constantly being drained of life and energy to the tear-stained ones of her child._

_“It’s okay. Don’t worry about any of that. Okay? Never worry about any of that, my darling. Just know please, more than anything…” she grasped the back of her child’s head, bringing her down to her own lips to kiss her forehead before looking deep into her eyes “Your Mother loves you, Viridian.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the latest chapter~
> 
> Poor Viridian. Told you all her backstory would be sad.
> 
> Silver was won over by Ozpin managing to convince him Viridian's happiness was more important than fighting for his own perception of justice. Plus he can still fight for what he thinks is right, but now he can go about it legitimately, well, depending on how the rest of SLVR reacts to his decision.


	16. New Kids on the Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team SLVR arrive at Beacon, life isn't going to be simple or as mundane as one would have expected.

“Ho-Lee-Shit!” Linen exclaimed wildly, his eyes lighting up with exhilaration at the sprawling and beautiful architecture of every inch of Beacon. The emerald fields of grass sprawled ahead of them, with white pillars and arches lining the sides of the major pathways along with statues of famous international Huntsmen and Huntresses from eras long passed. The giant monolithic structure of the schools multiple buildings shined brightly ahead, with the softest of viridian hues marking the apex of the tallest tower.

“Great. Not two minutes in Beacon and we’ve already broken the ‘Profanity rule’ on Campus.” Silver sighed.

“They really have one of those?” Red asked in response, one of her eyebrows shooting up in inquisitiveness. 

Silver shrugged in response “I have no idea. I just wanted something witty to say to disrupt Linen before he went off on his tangent about the ‘Historical significance’ of this academy.” Silver mocked with exaggerated air quotes, winking at his friend afterwards. “Go ahead, by the way, Linen.”

“First off: Fuck you.” Linen said succinctly without skipping a beat in insulting his compatriot.

“You’re quite welcome.” Silver smirked.

“Secondly: Holy crap! We’re in Beacon! Beacon! You know, the most advanced Huntsmen academy in the world with architectural designs dating back to just after the Great war! Oh! Fun fact! They had designed Beacon before the war ever broke out, but it was meant to be a giant chappal and religious site, that’s why the main building resembles a church!” Linen ranted as Red looked on with an adoring expression, the way a Mother might when their child did something ridiculously cute, meanwhile Viridian dazed off into space with her eyes glazed and Silver tapped his foot with his arms crossed impatiently.

“Riveting.” Silver said unenthusiastically. Red elbowed him in the ribs, and gave Silver a look of rebuke. Linen’s choice of fun was always on the academic level, illegally downloading whatever documentary he could onto his laptop whenever the opportunity arose about any obscure or seemingly innocuous piece of useless information that Silver would have preferred stayed lost to the annals of time.

“Oh, that’s not even the half of it! Beacon is actually one of the most hybridised institutions in the world in terms of the variation of architecture and technology, because it’s been renovated so many times!”

“Why is that?” Silver asked, actually curious for once about one of the useless facts Linen spewed.

“You keep enough insanely powered teenagers who can bring down armed military fleets with weapons they keep strapped to their hips and you’re bound to run into…accidents, shall we say?” Linen smiled devilishly.

Silver stole a glance at Viridian, connecting the dots with the implication of Linen’s smile to see her following after a butterfly, giggling quietly to herself whilst being mesmerised by the multitude of colours and patterns on its wings. He apprehensively chewed the inside of his mouth, before leaning over and grabbing Viridian by her hood and pulling her back. She yelped and struggled, before eventually whimpering in defeat, pouting a little. It broke Silver’s heart a little, but at the same time she was too cute not to tease.

“Point taken.” Silver said coolly. 

“Speaking of changing things up…” Red began, before grabbing Viridian by the shoulders, the younger girl yelping at being wheeled around in front of the two male members of their team, and stood behind Viridian. “How is our little Viri’s new outfit, boys?” 

Viridian was now wearing a light blue collared, sleeveless zip-up jumpsuit (with black side panelling and black swallow design on the back) that ended just short of the midway point of her thighs in a pair of shorts, with the sleeveless section of her upper body being unzipped down to her torso, exposing her white collared dress shirt underneath. The jumpsuit was also adorned with a blue and black hood as well as a black, two-pronged belt with green stars. On her feet, were a pair of black, blue and purple armoured boots with three green stars around the cuff over dark blue and light blue ribbed, striped socks. She also wore elbow-length armoured blue, light blue and grey sleeve-like gauntlets with puffy, black banded, white cuffs above her white fingerless gloves. She also equipped herself with blue knuckle guards, elbow guards as well as leg guards.

Silver couldn’t help but appreciate the change in attire that finally differed from the norm they had all too become accustomed to. Ozpin was kind enough to grant them some shopping money to change up their attire, or just add to it in general as they had never been fortunate or wealthy enough to afford a great deal of expensive or flashy clothing. Unless you were Red, but usually she would steel hers. Her semblance was very useful for robbing, as shown by her ability to procure information after sleeping with targets. Regardless, usually their funds would be spent on weaponry or Dust ahead of dangerous and risky missions. Something so mundane was rather pleasant. Relaxing, even. 

Silver hadn’t changed his own outfit much, a bomber-jacket replacing his fleece with a plain-black vest underneath it. Linen was now in a light-weight grey hoodie with an orange trim along the pectoral area and down the sleeves in a straight line and with a new pair of jeans and trainers which completed the ensemble, albeit just a fresher and cleaner version of his previous iteration. Red was also noticeably different, trading her red and white gothic-Lolita dress for a long-sleeved frilled white shirt with a red corset that was pulled tight to her already lithe and seductively attractive body, pushing her breasts up as a result. Below that was a pair of leather jeans and brown-laced up boots, with the straps of her revolver’s holsters bound around her hips and posterior, teasingly. 

Silver promised himself he would not stare too long, they were like siblings and more than that he felt like his pride was being damaged if he so easily gave in to Red’s less than subtle attempts to have all men’s eyes on her. And women too. She really didn’t judge and/or care.

“You are never choosing Viridian’s outfit again.” Silver said, blushing as how much of Viridian’s strong and supple legs were on display, and how much more would have been if he had failed to convince Viridian to wear her dress-shirt underneath the exposed section of the jumpsuit. 

Viridian raised a solitaire finger to request permission to speak. “Umm, do I get a say in this?”

“Of course not, little sister. Allow us to objectify you, please. You look the perfect combination of cute, sexy and are intimidating enough to strike fear into anyone who would think of messing with our team!” Red boasted.

“With enough skin to give a religious zealot a heart attack.” Silver quipped.

“You’re such a prude.” Red sighed. “You’re only saying that because you only ever get laid once every full moon.” The implication of sex caused Viridian’s eyes to dart down to her boots while also fiddling with her hands, a blush cast over her face all the while.

“Is that another god-damn Wolf joke, Red?” Silver asked, eyes narrowed.

“Better believe it, Wolfy~” she winked back and Silver groaned back at her, running his hand down his face in frustration. 

“Ouch! Stop that already! It really hurts!” a voice called out pleadingly, loud enough and distressed to such a point it demanded the attention of all of team SLVR. They turned to see a gang of four Beacon students crowded around a single rabbit-Faunus, the tallest of them with striking ginger hair pulling on the brunette girl’s ears, tormenting her. The worst of it all was they were laughing, deriving some sick sadistic pleasure that sickened Silver more than even Viridian enjoying the deaths of others. Probably because it was far more personal seeing what was undoubtedly a clear act of racism towards his own people. A horrible and degrading experience that he and Red had been subject to for many years, never exactly escaping persecution altogether, though depending on the Kingdom the likelihood of encountering an emboldened racist willing to outwardly assault or insult a Faunus decreased. This was especially true with Beacon, however, there still remained isolated cases where, even discrediting Red’s own prejudicial jokes, racism and discrimination still actively occurred to the two of them.

Silver grounded his teeth back and forth, bubbling with anger as the girl begged and pleaded her tormentors whilst vigorously calling for mercy, and yet no-one seemed even willing to acknowledge the bullying or do anything about it. Omission of action was just as bad as the racism itself, because it perpetuated it. Red walked in line with her leader, her own vision fixed on the incident, but far more composed and neutral.

“Wanna kick their asses?” She asked, her voice firm. 

“I want to beat them to death.” Silver replied, curtly. 

“We can’t.” Red responded.

“I know. We’ll deal with this like Huntsmen would. Start as we mean to go on, right?” Silver looked back, seeing Linen and Viridian stood close to one another. Viridian had her hands clasped over her chest, looking vaguely worried but passive, Linen resting a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. She knew better than to involve herself in matters pertaining to the Faunus with Silver, he shouldered the burdens of his people like it was a self-imposed curse. He always claimed it should be a Faunus to offer hope and help his people, as it would mean more that way. Regardless, it didn’t stop her worrying and wanting to involve herself in some degree. Additionally, Silver could be incredibly aggressive when encountering racism, he wasn’t known for holding back. If anything, she wanted to fight so she could prevent Silver from doing something he’d regret. She would be okay with taking a life, it was a simple pleasure for her as she felt no attachment to mankind outside her teammates, but Silver still retained his humanity. Killing was never something he accepted lightly, and avoided it at every available opportunity. 

“You lead. I’ll back you up.” Red’s hands shot down to her holsters, gliding over the handles of her revolvers delicately, just adjusting her grip for when she would have to draw. 

“HEY!” Silver shouted at the top of his lungs, aggression and vehement rage ringing across the entire courtyard of Beacon. Most students turned his way, stopping on their journey or mundane conversation to look at him, some broke out into quite murmurs and hushed whispers whilst the rest just watched on; curious as to what had drawn his ire. 

Eventually the tall ginger member of the four harassing the brunette turned to face him, realising it was him Silver had directed his shout towards.

“Hey guys, look, some wild animals made their way onto campus!” he laughed, his three smaller friends all snickering along like the lackeys they were.

“Oh, how scathing! Never heard that one before…” Red rolled her eyes as she stood straight, having bent her knees initially in preparation for a close-range assault. It was clear, however, Silver wanted to at least establish some form of dialogue first. 

“Funny, coming from an unevolved ape like yourself.” Silver bit back. 

The tall ginger boy sighed, finally releasing the brunette from his grasp and turned around fully to face Silver properly. “You trying to start something doggy? Why don’t you go make on the grass like the animal you are? Me and Velvet here were about to head out on a date, where nobody can see us.” The brunette whimpered and collapsed within herself, hunching over and looking like the quintessentially trapped animal they had reduced her too. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you around here. Did Ozpin expand the quota so more of you useless animals can come here just to fail, like always?”  
Silver’s hands had long before balled into fists, but not he could feel his grip getting some strong blood was trickling down the insides of his palms. It was all he could do to restrain himself, and not break every bone in the guy’s body right then and there. He was attempting a form of diplomacy, to do anything possible to save the exchange of blows. The guy was a Huntsmen-in-training after all, and Silver had been left bloodied and bruised after his brief encounters with the blonde daughter of Raven. This time he was even more outnumbered, and had to deal with Red being involved. She had all the right to want to fight too, they were very similar in how they dealt with such problems, but she wasn’t as physically imposing or altogether as durable in both aura and her physical capabilities. He would have to keep an eye on her if it did break out, but she was incredibly capable. Perhaps he was worrying too much, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. He’d never be able to look Linen in the eye. 

“As a matter of fact, we’re exchange students from Vaccuo. Back in my home city, if someone messes with you then you hurt them right back. Kind of a code of honour among thieves and the damned. Eye for an eye. And I don’t appreciate your hurting and picking on a girl who can’t defend herself.” Silver explained, relaxing somewhat as he made his case. Feeling some tension go the more he could talk, finding it an effective means to expel rage much like using his fists did. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to let her go, turn around and walk away. Or me and my sister here will settle this in the way we did back in Vaccuo. By the by, nobody ever died, but plenty of bones were broken. Sometimes irreversibly.” Silver warned, his eyes becoming dark and foreboding as his voice took on a far more eerie tone. 

“How intimidating! I like it when you things have a backbone, makes it all the more fun to break you.” He motioned for his team to draw their weapons, their hands wrapping around the combination of weaponry they all had consisting of the one with a mohawk wielding two daggers, the blonde with a sword and the teal-haired one going for his halberd. However, before any of them could draw their weapons a series of gunshots rang out, and ice exploded around their hands just as they clasped their various weapons, freezing them in place.

“Huh?!” They exclaimed in unison, looking up to see Red aiming both her pistols directly at them, the barrels of the hexagonally-shaped revolvers smoking while they consisted of an ice-blue hue from the Dust currently fuelling them. 

“Sorry boys, I don’t let strangers whip their swords out on the first date.” She winked. 

“Don’t kid yourself, Red.” Silver said before shooting off, leaping forwards and kicking the one with green-mohawk styled hair straight to the side of his head in a volley, sending him flying through the air and smashing into one of the many pillars lining the way into the main building. 

“Diplomacy was never my best attribute…” Silver muttered, ruefully, before sweeping at the feet of the blonde with the revolver-sword as he yanked in a panic at his frozen weapon and appendage in an attempt to free himself. Silver knocked him off his feet with his standing sweep, and elbowed him in the gut, as he was horizontally fixed in the air, in combination, sending him crashing into the floor below. The force breaking the ice that had been trapping him. Not skipping a beat, Silver launched into a jumping knee-strike straight to the head of the remaining bully, making him spin like a top from the amount of force he attacked with. Silver landed in a roll and skidded along the ground, stopping in a swivel just to see his final opponent, knocked for a daze, stumble around dizzily before collapsing in front of his leader. 

Silver snickered, Red sauntering over with her guns pointed into the air casually. The leader of the bullies sneered at them, looking disdainfully at his fallen comrades. 

“So, what was that about breaking us?” Red asked, mockingly. 

“Honestly, I expected more from Beacon students. Ozpin really must have let his standards drop…” Silver added, a brief smile fleetingly appearing upon his lips, before he disappeared in a puff of smoke, reappearing behind the ginger-haired bully to lock him in a head-lock, applying a great deal of pressure around his neck and cutting off the oxygen resultantly. Silver kicked the back of his knees in, giving him access to the beneficial factor of elevation, making it harder for his opponent to break the hold that Silver was none-too gingerly applying. “I’m gonna make this really simple for you. If I ever catch you bullying or abusing my race again, I’ll pop your head like a zit. Understand?” Silver relaxed his grip just enough for the ginger to nod “I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding.” Silver released him, shoving him forcefully down to the ground. “Now, take your friends, and kindly run like the little bitch you are. Go on, get!” Silver screamed and the lead bully did as commanded, picking up his stray friends and sprinting away, sobbing and whimpering loudly as the crowd that had gathered looked palpably shocked at the swift series of events that had resulted in his defeat.  
Red walked back over to Silver, again, and holstered her weaponry and stood with one hand on her hip “Don’t you think you were a little harsh?”

“They’re alive and I doubt any of them have any broken bones…probably.” Silver shrugged “I could have done worse.”

“True, true.” Red relented, and the two of them looked around their audience, some terrified of them and some looking on in awe. “Guess we announced ourselves to Beacon, although it was a little louder than I would have preferred.”

“E-Excuse me…?” a timid voice began, and both Faunus members of team SLVR turned to see the rabbit-Faunus that was being bullied before their timely intervention. Silver could instantly tell from the way she was hunched over, timid, soft spoken and nervous in her countenance exposed the fact she was one of the many Faunus who abided by the philosophy it was better to be ignored and as unassuming as possible. More akin to scenery or furniture than an actual person. She wasn’t as striking or confidence as Faunus like Silver, Red or even Adam Taurus were. Perhaps it was best that way, if too many Faunus went about physically asserting their dominance or equality to the wider world then that gave people justification to fight back. The fact such a minority of the white Fang, thousands at most when compared to the millions of soft-spoken and innocent Faunus who went about their day regularly and without intent to force a confrontation, meant that for the most part their race was entirely ignored. It could have been far better to Silver, a point punctuated by the fact he had to engage with four Huntsmen-in-training; the supposed pinnacle of justice, but it could also have been far worse too. 

“Oh! Hey there!” Red greeted her enthusiastically, while Silver panted lightly from the exercise, crossing his arms and looking off to see most of the crowd begin to break up as they realized the action had ended for the most part. “Sorry to involve ourselves so forcefully, we didn’t intend for it to get physical.”

“Don’t lie, Red.” Silver said. 

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Either way, we don’t like seeing one of us get mistreated like that.”

The brunette nodded “Y-Yeah, I-I understand. I-I just wanted to thank you, Cardin and his cronies can be such…!” She searched for the right phrase, changing from her submissive and timid stature to shake in anger.

“Bastards?” Silver offered.

“Pricks.” Red presented as an alternative.

“…Jerks.” The brunette smiled, her own verbiage being somewhat cleaner than their own. “A-Anyway, can I get your names? I overheard you say you’re new here…”

Silver nodded in response to her assertion “Sure are. We’re from Vaccuo, I’m Silver Aloi. This is my sister, Red Herring. Over there is our partners.” Silver pointed behind himself, and gestured for Linen and Viridian to join them. “This is my best friend, confidant, and all-around alternative to an encyclopaedia: Linen Blanc.”

“Nice to meet you.” Linen raised his hand in greeting. 

“And this is my partner, Viridian Aurora.” Silver explained, pointing directly at the raven and blonde haired girl, who eccentrically bowed in what might have usually been considered a respectful manner, but seemed contrived and excessive in the circumstances.

“And good day to you, Miss…?” Viridian’s face creased in deep thought, twisting in perplexingly before she finally looked up to Silver “Um, did you even ask her name?” Silver smacked himself in face, embarrassed by his own lack of manners. In his defence, it wasn’t like common courtesy was what they were hired for, nor did they really get the chance to partake or practice in it. 

“I’m Velvet Scarlatina. It’s wonderful to meet you all. What’s your team name, if I can ask?” Velvet introduced herself properly, appearing to gain a measure of confidence now that some simple exchanges had passed to-and-fro. She had a heavy but attractive accent to her, and the less she stuttered and more prominently she engaged with the rest of team SLVR, the more obvious it became. Red actually considered it quite nice to listen too. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Velvet. Our team is called Team SLVR. Named after our fearless leader.” Red said, somewhat sarcastically and ignored how Silver was staring daggers into the back of her head.  
“SLVR? I’d say naming your team after your leader is a little on the nose, but a team of first years already beat you to it, so I doubt many people will take exception to it.”

“Sweet, sounds like some people we could get along with.” Linen added, moving his hands to rest and interlock on the back of his head. 

Velvet chuckled mildly “They’re in my history class, they’re a lively bunch. Though from what I’ve seen, you could give them a real run for their money!” Velvet smiled, but then her face melted into a curious expression “Not that it’s odd to be named after colours, but yours seem rather…simple? Why?”

“Funny story.” Silver began “When we all met up in Vaccuo, we were orphans. Me and Red grew up in the same orphanage, until it was firebombed by some human supremicists.”

“That’s awful!” Velvet exclaimed, clasping her hands over her mouth.

“Eh, it’s not even the worst of it. But anyway, we never knew our parents and the orphanage was for unwanted Faunus, as you can expect in a lawless society like Vaccuo there were a lot of us, so we got referred to be a number. No joke, I was 678 and Red was 677. We always sat next to each-other because of our numbering, it led to us bonding and becoming the inseparable siblings we are today.” He smiled, genuinely, and Red even seemed to share the same nostalgic expression of affection. “Red found a book about the Great War one day, we couldn’t read much, never got a formal education. But we learnt children born after the War were named after things indicative of colour, so we christened each-other after noticeable traits of the other, it helped us feel individual and helped us grow a little closer by giving each-other something we had never truly had: a name to finally be identified with.”

“I called him Silver, after the colour of his eyes and Wolf-ears.” Red added, her voice softer like it was on the edge of breaking into sobs. 

“I called her Red after the colour of her hair and ears. Seemed appropriate. I guess it is a little simple, looking back on it…” He rubbed his neck, laughing nervously. “Where was I? Oh yeah. So the Orphanage got burnt down, that was a bummer. We lived on the streets for a few days, scavenging for food and clean clothes. Well, cleaner clothes. It was Vaccuo after all.” They shared a short laugh between them, even Velvet finding some brief amusement in their collectively dark reflection of their home Kingdom. “Eventually we stumbled on Linen, who had in fact known his parents before we had met…” Silver appeared somewhat reluctant to continue, and Linen caught on to his tenseness.

“Gang violence. They ran a small narcotics business in the Eastern part of the Kingdom. Tried to double-cross the wrong guy. I managed to escape in nothing but a blanket made entirely out of linen…” The smaller of the two male members of SLVR explained, matter-of-factly and with complete indifference, although there was a slight blush to his face admitting something so absurdly embarrassing. 

“Job one was to acquire him some actual clothing. It gave us a good name for him though, replaced his old one.”

“And good riddance to it.” Linen said, looking slightly aggravated. 

“Finally, we stumbled on a girl who managed to somehow travel all the way to Vaccuo from Mistral. Still not entirely sure how you did it, Viri.” 

Viridian just shrugged “Dunno myself. I remember it a lot of different ways. Pretty sure the voices lie to me about it, though.” Velvet raised an eyebrow at Viridian mentioning the voices in her head but without proper context or explanation, so the Maiden just waved off the idea like it didn’t matter. “Not important. But that’s how our family finally met each-other. Once we did, we relied on each-other for survival. We huddled for warmth, shared food, and promised we’d make something of ourselves. I was the final piece in a very dysfunctional puzzle.” Viridian toyed with her pendant that hung around her neck, grasping it tightly with a meek smile “My family…” she muttered, quietly. 

“It…sounds like you all had a very difficult life…” Velvet said sympathetically, but the team collectively shrugged.

“We’ve learnt not to victimize ourselves. Instead of complaining about our lot in life we decided to actively set about righting wrongs. Helping people in our own unique way.” Red responded in an optimistic fashion “I suppose that’s what attracted Ozpin to us…” Red finally added the falsehood they had collectively agreed upon instead of the proper explanation of their past. Not only would it probably shock and disgust people, but they would probably be treated as outcasts or have the entire student body protest against a mercenary outfit of murderers being enrolled in their academy. This way, thanks to its ambiguity, it wasn’t a complete lie but covered up their contemptuous acts. Somewhat, at least. 

“That’s really inspiring!” Velvet cried in an upbeat style. “You guys have been through so much and yet you still have such a wonderful outlook on life! I think you’ll make great Huntsmen and Huntresses!” 

Silver smiled, though it was dishonest and manufactured for appearances “Heh, sure…” Silver was appreciative of the compliment, but by no means did he buy into it. None of them even came close to meeting the qualifications for being a Huntsmen or Huntress beyond their combative abilities, and even then, Linen was an academic; not a warrior even if he did have a very powerful semblance. Regardless, they weren’t virtuous enough nor did they come in with a clean slate of altruism and righteousness. They were always motivated to do good, and sometimes they had made a meaningful contribution to someone, somewhere, but they were tainted individuals. They knew of the horrors they had committed in the name of survival. Before they could claim they fought for justice, they had committed sins that Silver knew were unforgivable. Focusing on it and lamenting his own crimes did little good. Ozpin had said this was a second chance, so perhaps it was best leave their misconducts behind them. Adopt a new perspective, and march onwards without allowing that weight to crush them. It was easier said than done, however. 

“Would you like me to give you a quick tour? I was on my to meet up with my team before that jerk Cardin came along, so I can show you around on my way there.” Velvet offered. Silver looked to his three team members and they gave the impression that they were perfectly on board with the idea.

“Sure, may as well see what the new homestead is like, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Another chapter down, took a little longer than usual but I was outlining future chapters/direction of the plot. Next chapter we'll be back to RWBY's perspective, and changing up the major perspective characters too! Oh, fun times are ahead~
> 
> So team SLVR are still, arguably, not the greatest or most moral characters ever. Silver did threaten to kill Cardin, but he has dealt with people like him so often it's understandable he would have a short fuse. Red and him are naturally inclined to protect their own people, they are inclined to disagree with White Fang methods, Silver more than Red perhaps, but they agree there needs to be some group/protective element of the Faunus. Also I just really wanted Cardin and his goons to get beaten up. 
> 
> We also got a look into Red's weaponry, her hexagonal barrelled magnums charged with different elements of Dust. She's a crack shot with a remarkable sleight of hand. I imagine the names of her weaponry would be similar to the implication of her full name "Red Herring" in the sense they would be called "Deception" and "Wile" the second one being more representative of a wily Fox. 
> 
> There was also a look into their past, the tragic childhood of all three other members besides Viridian. Silver and Red never knew a regular life, and have no real illusions to a perfect world. They're far more attuned to the horrors that exist in the world than others would be. Linen's history and Character were expanded upon a little, but I'll let him shine in a later chapter. Gave a few hints into his personality and past, but keeping it obscured for now. 
> 
> And yes, the first years Velvet referenced was of course Team RWBY, everybody should have gotten that. That's sure to spark some tensions, I'm sure. 
> 
> Oh, and another win for Silver. Make that 4 and 0 for Silver and 1 and 0 for Red. They're the perfect combination, in my opinion, they mesh perfectly together. Red supplies cover, and Silver presses their opponents. You could swap Silver out for Viridian in theory, but she's more focused and composed for the job.


	17. Collision Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang is back in action and ready to resume her role as a Huntress in training. Team RWBY is also introduced to the new arrivals...

Yang was in the midst of locking her gauntlets over her wrists and arms, testing the spring-loaded mechanism by activating and deactivating the gauntlets several times on each arm. There was no reason or indication to believe Ember Celica was in anyway malfunctioning or not up to standard, but being around Ruby so much had led the elder of the two siblings to understand the prudence in active maintenance of one’s weaponry. It wasn’t the worst trait Yang could have had rub off on her from her little sister (that was undoubtedly Ruby’s addiction to sugary treats. Yang could never manage a diet like that and stay as relatively thin as Ruby was, even if the brunette retained some baby-fat) and Yang was thankful for the distraction. 

It was meant to be the first day in which she had been cleared by medical personal to resume the more strenuous activities that befell Huntresses and Huntsmen attending Beacon Academy. There was worry she may be rusty and, even if she never wanted to admit it, that very idea tormented her. It had only been a week since her release from hospital, but the whole event had shaken her considerably. A good showing in a sparring match during Professor Goodwitch’s class would certainly do her good, but that didn’t prevent the very thing she was trying to cure from flaring up and costing her: both her rustiness and insecurity. 

One wrong move, one misstep and she could once again find herself defeated. She had started the latest semester with so much confidence after finishing third in the Vytal Tournament and finally having exercised her demons over Weiss and her feelings about the heiress with that particular thread ending in a cherished romance. But ever since then, it had been loss after loss. First, she was cost by dumb luck in a match where she had Pyrrha’s number. Then Silver had appeared and soundly incapacitated her and Blake with noticeable ease. And finally, when it looked like she was certain to get a degree of revenge on him, misfortune struck and her Mother ran her through. It was, with no exaggeration, the toughest time in her life to believe that if she just got back up and kept swinging, she would win. But she had to. She knew that if losing was inevitable, and unstoppable, then giving in only solidified and made it even more unavoidable. So, she would shoulder her burden, and draw strength from it. She would draw the inexorable will to overcome and not fall prey to her own demons.

She still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Her Mother. Once more, the woman disappeared, leaving a hole in the blonde, in more ways than one. Not a word, or apology, not an excuse or shred of evidence she cared. No remorse. Nothing. Yang knew in many ways she shouldn’t have been surprised, just disappointed. This was the woman who abandoned her to go and selfishly fight the Mother of all evils, after all. To satiate her own fears without even the slightest consideration of how it might affect Yang.

She sighed as Ember Celica folded outwards once more, the click of the gold-painted metal reminding her to stay in the present, and forget the past. It did not define her, and it did would not control her. Instead of looking back to what had been written and decided, she had to look toward the future and think of what she wanted to do with it. The innumerable possibilities were inspiring and exciting. 

“Something on your mind, Yang?” The aforementioned girl looked up to see Blake in front of her, holding two cups of tea with one pressed towards Yang. She had never been a big fan of the beverage, but it would be rude to not accept it after Blake had gone to the effort this early in the morning before their first class to make two cups. Yang took a tentative sip, enjoying the rich mixture of flavours that were, unfortunately, all too strong for her to enjoy. Otherwise it was a pleasant if bland drink, it was just the way in which Blake chose to make her own that didn’t sit too well with Yang, not that she would tell Blake, of course. Blake was her best friend, and she appreciated the girl taking the effort to check on her wellbeing, especially since Blake never really enjoyed discussing personal drama, or talking in general.

“I guess you could say I’m a little nervous.” Yang admitted, humbly.

“Seriously? You, of all people?” Blake smiled, her tone incredulous in its teasing nature.

“I get like it all the time. I’m a confident person, sure, but introspection tends to have a heavy weight to it.” 

“Mmm.” Blake hummed, sipping her own drink. “I am well aware of that feeling. So, what’s got my partner so nervous?” Blake asked.

“Whether or not I’m as good as people were making me out to be.” Yang shrugged, and Blake remained silent, waiting for whenever Yang wished to expand on the point. That was one of the thing’s Yang loved most about Blake as both a partner and a beloved friend. She was never pushy and was prepared to be patient in acquiring information from a person. “Like, I dunno, this whole year has been so chaotic for us, but overall we always came out victorious or wiser for it. But I’ve been losing a lot. And I’m only left with more questions than ever before. My Mum. The Maiden’s. That Silver guy. Whether or not I’m really cut out to be a Huntress. Pyyrha keeps winning, and I can’t keep up with her. What if I drag you guys down with me? Out of all of us I’m the most…mundane? I guess? Think about it: Ruby’s a child prodigy, you’re an ex-militant who’s seen actual combat experience and Weiss is from a family so centred around Dust-usage its practically in her blood! Not to mention she’s had the best, most expensive tutoring in sword-play and semblance control that Remnant can offer! And then there’s…me. The girl from Patch who graduated Signal. Big whoop.” Yang flopped down on her bed, exhaling at the strands of her uncontrolled blonde man in an attempt to blow them out of her line of sight. “The girl who might have peaked at third place. And who can’t stop losing.”

“Then do something about it.” Blake said plainly, without consideration for the pity-party Yang was throwing for herself. In response, Yang propped herself up on her elbows and stared quizzically at the Raven-haired Faunus.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you aren’t satisfied with how the world is, how your life is, you should try and change it. Do something to better it. Don’t stand there and let everything race you by. Take initiative, and advance yourself.” Blake looked Yang straight in the eyes “You only truly lose when you stop trying, Yang. When you give up on yourself.”

“Any other clichés you wanna get out of your system?” Yang smirked, appreciating what Blake said. It was just more of the same she had already told herself, but hearing it from Blake was far more meaningful. She trusted the girl with her life, and if Blake said something she made sure to follow it to the letter. Blake wasn’t infallible, but she was wise and level-headed most of the time. Not to mention what she was saying had relevance to the Faunus, it was rather reflective of her own life choices in siding with the militant wing of the White Fang. And even when that hadn’t panned out, she didn’t simply accept the world for what it was, she just found another route to achieve her goal. 

“Hang in there, kitty?” Blake smiled as she sipped from her tea and Yang burst out into laughter, kicking her feat in the air as she grabbed her gut.

“You did not just say that!” Yang howled through her laughter, and the smallest of blushes of regret bloomed upon Blake’s cheeks. 

Weiss trotted over from the other side of the room, having been fixing her hair whilst also being ever so slightly heartbroken to have heard Yang speaking so negatively about herself. She decided, however, to let Blake handle Yang this time. She was better at speaking and empathising with people’s pains and offering advice. 

Weiss’ hands were stationed on her hips as she looked visibly impatient and moderately irritated. 

“I take it from your laughter you’re ready? I have already forgone my perfect attendance, I would rather not add tardiness to my list of failures.”

“Sure. Come on, Yang. We should get a move on before Weiss has another meltdown.” Blake winked at Yang, who stifled another laugh as Weiss crossed her arms over her chest.  
“I do not have meltdowns, Belladonna!” Weiss scowled as she fixed Myrtenaster to her hip. 

“So, what do you call it when you rant and lecture us?” Ruby said as she swung her legs from atop her bunk, her head tilted to the side in curiosity although she wasn’t so naïve to know from her own phrasing she was likely to irritate the Heiress further. If anything, that was more her goal than to actually receive a proper answer. It could be fun to tease Weiss, so long as one minded not to push her too far. The rapport team RWBY had developed was one of deep trust and friendship, so deprecation of each-other was naturally just part and parcel of their relationship and humour. That being said, Weiss sometimes took things too personally. They all put that down to Weiss never really having too many friends, but she had become noticeably better the longer they had been together.

“ _That_ is what I would call filling in for the lack of education you provide us as team leader. It is not my fault you’re woefully inept at teaching us the basic mechanics of team structure.” Weiss smirked back as Yang theatrically made the motion of ringing a bell, to signal the ensuing battle.

“Weiss Schnee! How dare you commit such…um…slanderous defamation against my character! Yeah! Big words!” Ruby pointed at Weiss in an exaggerative manner “Do you not recall last month when I came up with at least three new team combos?” Ruby smugly smiled to herself.

“That would be physical leadership and combat training, which I will admit, you are adept at in your… _unique_ style. But when it comes to the theoretical and what is written in our textbooks you have the memory of a Goldfish.” Weiss retorted.

“Guys, I think we should save the sparring for our sparring lesson.” Blake said as she was already halfway through the door. “I’m going to go on ahead. Catch up with you guys outside Glynda’s classroom? Try not to bite each-other’s heads off.” Blake waved them off, being her usually independent self and leaving without waiting for the others after seeing her particular role in their quartet was over for the time being. However, Ruby leaped off her bed, ignoring Weiss’ comments (or more accurately, back-handed compliments and criticisms) and burst into rose petals.

“Wait for me, Blake, I’m coming too!” Ruby appeared right behind Blake, her smile an inescapable ray of sunshine that could blind a person if they stared at it too long. 

“Ruby? Sure, you don’t want to wait for Yang? You know I’m not much of a conversationalist.” Despite her own accurate reflection on her character, Blake was still delicately smiling. The two of them had become a lot closer as a result of Yang and Weiss’ initially secret relationship and the time they had been forced to spend together. It wouldn’t be unfair to claim they had probably been the most distant out of any pairing on their entire team. It wasn’t like they weren’t friends, but they didn’t share any interests nor did they particularly talk either. Perhaps that part was more Blake’s fault then Ruby’s, after all the younger girl did make the effort to approach her numerous times upon their first meeting. The point being however, there wasn’t much of a foundation to build anything on other than “We’re teammates, I guess.” 

Although being forced to spend so much time together, with Blake divorced from her books, had compelled the two of them to seek some common ground. 

The most obvious thing to try and expand upon was the fact they were Huntresses and their motivations for that. Ruby wanted to be the hero from all those stories from her childhood, and Blake simply wanted to right the wrongs of the world. They were similarly chasing after an altruistic goal of bettering Remnant, even if the origins for their motivation came from different sources. That had led them to discuss their past, although Blake still dodged the question and remained vague about most of her life’s details, however she tried to be as open as possible with what she could. Her parents were easy enough to talk about, even if she still felt guilty about ignoring their warnings about Adam and the White Fang. Ruby had a bunch of stories from her home of Patch and growing up with Yang. They were entertaining tales and accounts and helped lay a foundation for their burgeoning friendship. Laughter was exchanged readily, and they then discussed hobbies and the likes with Blake offering a series of books for Ruby to read (not overly long ones, Blake took her leaders lack of an attention span into account) and Ruby suggested a few weapon-maintenance tips for Blake’s Gambol Shroud. 

It was never much, or really anything meaningful, but it helped bridge the gap between the two of them. Surprisingly, ever since they had been forced to spend time together after the initial awkwardness had been overcome, Ruby seemed to hold some preference about Blake. She regularly chose the Faunus as her partner to spar with or study with. Blake convinced herself it was a conscious decision to give Weiss and Yang more time together, but there were numerous instances where one of them had proposed working with Ruby and youngest girl had turned them down in favour of spending time with Blake. Whilst it was true the Raven-haired girl was also quite happy to spend time with Ruby, she was slightly suspicious of how enamoured the girl seemed with her and her willingness to prioritise her ahead of her sister and partner. Maybe that was just her scepticism dying the world a biased colour for Blake to perceive it in the way she wanted, but she couldn’t help but question what this new-found yearning for spending time with Blake was motivated by. 

“Nah, I’m happy to, you know, walk with you, Blake.” Ruby stuttered and seemed unsure about herself, hiding her face and the all too obvious smile pulling at her lips by looking down or away from Blake. The sheepish nature of Ruby was adorable, there was no doubt to be had over that, but again Blake questioned and wondered where it was coming from. 

Blake shrugged nonchalantly “Sure. If you want to, I guess.” Ruby looked up to see Blake’s bow that hid her cat ears twitch, and she furrowed her brow in response for barely an instant before readopting her deadpan and neutral expression. Ruby knew Blake couldn’t help the involuntary reaction that suggested something was bothering her. 

The raven-haired girl flicked her beautifully shining hair casually to try and distract any potential onlookers from querying about the flicker of what should have been a stationary garment. Usually Blake could play it off as being the breeze playing with it, but that was harder when she was inside. It could be understood as a window into Blake’s heart, exposing her insecurities when she would usually keep her emotions bundled up and obscured, even to her own team. Normally she was quite adept at passing any movement off by using her quick reactions to shift her head in tandem to blur the motion. Additionally, Blake was skilled in preventing her ears from flickering unconsciously, but sometimes when she was lost deep in thought or something particularly poignant was said to her she couldn’t help the reaction from taking place. 

Ruby initially thought of prying, but thought better of it. Blake bottled her feelings up too much for the brunette’s liking, but if it was such an important matter Blake would eventually tell her. Ruby couldn’t tell if that was some deluded optimism or an accurate interpretation of reality, but she had to believe it. She wanted to believe it was just Blake being lost in thought, though the furrowed brow that disappeared as quickly as it appeared gave her come justification for concern about Blake’s wellbeing. 

“So…” Ruby began, searching for a topic of conversation to interrupt the awkward silence that had emerged since Blake’s nervous twitching of her ears. “D-Did you hear there’s new students joining our classes?”

Oh?” Blake looked to the smaller girl “There are? Know anything about them?” Blake asked. 

Ruby shook her head “Nope. Nobody knows them, it would seem. Apparently when they arrived last week they beat up Cardin and his team when they were bullying Velvet.” 

“Serves them right.” Blake’s eyes narrowed slightly at the thought of the harassment Velvet suffered though for no good reason. 

“Apparently two of them are Faunus. And they’re also from Vaccuo, or something.” Ruby continued, the exact details being vague to her and the way she explained it.

“I see.” Blake said indifferently. “What are they like? Other than the type to beat up bullies, of course.”

“I don’t really know. They haven’t gone to any lessons yet, and nobody seems to know why. They’ve had a few meetings with Ozpin which is weird…” Ruby responded and looked incredulous but curious, like it was a mystery she could solve. Blake found Ruby’s frustration at being denied answers and yet also finding motivation from that an attractive quality of her leader. 

“That isn’t unheard of. Some students are given a sabbatical period to grow accustom to their surroundings, especially when joining mid-semester.” Blake said. 

“Yeah, maybe you have a point…” Ruby began to squeal and jumped on the spot several times “But you know what this means, right Blake?!” 

Blake’s eyes went wider than normal as she was surprised by Ruby’s sudden outburst. “Uh…not exactly?”

“We get to make new friends! New Huntsmen or Huntresses to fight alongside! New weapons to examine and…” Ruby shuddered in excitement, practically drooling. “This. Is. So. Cool!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air, and Blake chuckled mildly.

“I suppose it is. I can’t deny I am a little interested in seeing what they’re like.”

“This is gonna be so awesome!” Ruby squealed.

 

The four members of team RWBY once more found themselves just outside the upper level of the sparring room for their regularly scheduled sparring session/observation classes, where they would test and hone their skills in combat or take notes of the participants and learn from mistakes made. Although normally it was just glorified theatre and entertainment, despite the fact it was incredibly important for their growth and development as Huntresses. 

They had arrived to the class somewhat later than the other students to the lesson, but by no means were they late. Everyone had already filed in and taken their seats, conversation being passed between each-other about whatever took their fancy, be it current events or just general small-talk. Glynda was staring down at her watch, waiting for the hands to reach 9AM precisely so she could officially begin her lesson, her countenance was what was expected of her, a thin frown that appeared to be stapled to her face as it was rarely ever replaced. 

Blake took notice of the four students stood beside Glynda, sharing a hushed conversation between three of them, whilst the final member, a girl, stood there staring into space without rhyme or reason.  
Blake’s Faunus ears flicked at the sounds of conversation and zeroed in on the exact nature of what was being discussed. Her own suspicions were confirmed and the conversation appeared to be centred around the new students and trying to decipher who they were and why they had only just joined their class in Beacon. 

Blake’s own amber eyes widened considerably upon reaching the tallest member of the new group of students, particularly noticing those striking gun-metal silver eyes that mirrored Ruby’s. The same eyes of the person who attacked both her and Yang in that alleyway only weeks ago. Faunus ears protruded almost proudly from his head. He was in the midst of a hushed argument with the smaller girl to his side, equally displaying her fox ears atop her head. The human who matched the fox-Faunus in height was placed intimately close to her, the two holding hands as the two Faunus argued back and forth, the human chiming in from time to time with what sounded like a witty comment. The exact nature of the conversation was two quiet for Blake to discern, though the human was loud enough to hear whenever he contributed. Blake figured it must have been because the Faunus knew the exact level of which they could communicate without other Faunus picking up on them while the human obviously lacked this ability and knowledge. 

Nevertheless, Blake found herself hesitating upon walking into the room, stopping after noticing her opponent from the alleyway. What was he doing here? With a team, no less. He had been a thief of considerable military technology and information, something she had been privy to only in retrospect thanks to explanations being provided by Yang and Qrow after Yang’s hospitalisation. A million thoughts and theories all ran through her head at once, her hands balling into fists. She wasn’t one to let her emotions control her or dictate action, but if this man had infiltrated their academy without the faculties knowledge she couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. At the same time, she was aware leaping into a physical altercation would be counterproductive and hazardous to her health. She also had to consider her friends and classmates around her. No way would she ever let her actions result in collateral damage. That was the reason she had left Adam, after all. 

The silver eyes of the Wolf-Faunus met her own amber pair after noticing the sound of the door opening and four pairs of footsteps walking into the room. He held Blake’s gaze for a few moments, sighing and looking what could only be described as guilty. But that didn’t make any sense to Blake. Why would he be guilty? Why remorse? Was he forced, or coerced to do what he did? What little Yang had shared implied that he worked for Yang’s Mother, but the relationship was mostly one-sided but even so it was one he partook in willingly. His eyes darted up to the top of her head, regarding her bow with amusement for a few seconds and then he shrugged his shoulders. Faunus had something that was similar to a sixth sense in noticing when someone was hiding their own traits. More accurately it could better be described as being aware of when someone was a Faunus, so as to identify their own kind from others for safety and security’s sake. 

Blake was left stupefied to both the appearance of her attacker and his general attitude. She would have expected some kind of animosity or defensiveness, and yet if anything he was relatively open and relaxed with her. Yang then burst forwards, an aggressiveness permeating in a fiery aura burning at her fringes as she marched forwards, Ember Celica immediately activating, clicking as they loaded the shells strapped around the inside of their base. 

The Wolf-Faunus grabbed the human girl to his side and held her close, his own aura flaring momentarily. The girl happily squealed, holding him tight and nuzzling into him, not giving a moment’s thought into the obvious tension in the air. 

The entire room had fallen silent at the tremors created from the heavy and rage-laden footsteps of Yang alongside the audible loading clack of Ember Celica. Glynda looked up at Yang from her watch, raising an eyebrow in initial curiosity, but that soon faded away like she was fully aware of why Yang was so angry. Yang went to throw a punch to fire her weaponry, and the silver-eyes Faunus bent his knees like he was ready to jump away in evasion, but Yang’s arm stopped mid-air as purple aura encapsulated her limb and held it mid punch. The Wolf-Faunus relaxed slightly, looking over with Yang and the rest of the class to see Glynda’s arm and riding crop outstretched, pulsating with energy at its tip, her weapon restricting Yang’s movement after identifying the danger she posed.

“I warned Ozpin this would happen…” Glynda muttered to herself. 

“In his defence, something was going to happen no matter what…” Silver replied with one side of his lips tugged into a nervous smile. 

“True.” Glynda replied before fixing her glasses in place. “Yang, can I promise you will not strike out at team SLVR if I allow you your control over your body back?” Glynda asked, her voice a touch more compassionate than usual. 

Yang grunted in frustration, but exhaled outwards in an effort to try and relieve herself of excess anger “Yes.” Yang said, relatively calmer, and her arm lowered back down to her side as Glynda released her hold on the blonde brawler. Yang attempted to lock eyes with Silver, but the Faunus just looked away, refusing to make eye contact with her in what looked like another remorseful expression, though even more than before.

“It’s clear there remains animosity between you and Yang, Silver. Perhaps you should work some of that out in a sanctioned sparring match? One that adheres entirely to the rules.” Glynda suggested, her voice stern as she emphasised just how the conduct of the match would have to be carried out. 

“That’s fine by me.” Yang said, her eyes narrowed and fists clenched. 

Silver saw the logic employed by Glynda, looking up and finally locking eyes with Yang, though he seemed far less aggressive than Yang did. If anything, he had the aura of a man who was determined to achieve something rather than someone out for vengeance. 

“I will! I will!” Viridian said elatedly whilst in the midst of jumping on her heels, a deranged smile streaking across her face. Everyone turned to look at the erratic and bubbly laughing girl who couldn’t stay still with a myriad of confused expressions.

“Viridian?” Silver looked to her, brow furrowed, expecting an explanation. 

“She’s the one who hurt you right? Let me hurt her. I have an idea…” Viridian smiled, her top set of pearly white teeth skated over her bottom lip in a predatory smile. Silver considered it, the idea did concern him greatly however. Knowing that Viridian very much only wanted to fight in order to harm a person gave him pause for recourse. Though there was meant to be protection and contingency measures to prevent actual injury, and Ozpin went as far to alleviate some concerns saying he had also retrofitted certain protocols just for Viridian due to her penchant for bloodshed. He was only considering the idea because if he didn’t nip this problem in the bud, that being Viridian’s desire to ‘avenge’ Silver and deliver recompense for Yang harming her lover, it would eventually snowball. Viridian may have had a very contradictive memory, but emotion was something dissimilar. She always remembered the emotion she assigned to the truth of a memory, which helped narrow down exactly what was true or not. It could also fail, which was a significant problem he was facing. Viridian wanted to harm Yang, not trade blows or spar. She honestly wanted to make the blonde suffer. Sending her out there might only exacerbate the problem. 

“We can’t act like we used to, Viri.” Silver pointed out, and Viridian’s face morphed into less homicidal expression, looking calmer than before.

“I know. Professor Ozpin told me I can’t kill any students here. Doesn’t mean I can’t beat anyone I want down in a sparring match. Besides, I have an idea. I can control myself, Silver. ”

“No. You can’t.” Silver responded, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, not now anyway. 

“Do you trust me?” Viridian asked and Silver shut his eyes tight, cursing the deities for giving Viridian the lucidity to ask that of him.

“Of course I do.” Silver said.

Viridian held up both fists, one still lightly taped from her injury at the hands of Adam Taurus “I’ll only use my hands. Like you taught me. No weapons. No decapitation, dismemberment, evisceration, disembowelment, only a fight. Let me work this out for us. Trust me?” 

Silver sighed in defeat “Not going to let this go, are you?” 

“Nope!” She smiled brightly. 

Silver shrugged “All-right then. Viridian, you’re up.” She pumped a fist in the air and took a step towards Yang, grinning at the blonde.

“Pretty face you’ve got. Can’t wait to mess it up.”

 

Yang and Viridian’s gaze hadn’t ventured off of each-other during the walk down from the observation level to the sparring room. What shouldn’t have been more than a regular twenty second undertaking became a prolonged battle of wills and stubbornness. Yang did her best to remain as steely and intimidating as she could, using her taller frame and powerful gaze to the best of her ability, and yet Viridian remained erratically upbeat, shifting from an endearing smile to a psychotic and malevolent countenance that could give a Grimm a run for its money on the creepiness scale. 

The two of them stood off from each-other, Yang adopting her regular fighting position. She didn’t know the girl whatsoever but she was aligned with Silver and came across like she was very much aware of the hostility that lay between the two of them. She had no qualms with stoking the coals of animosity, proving to be insulting and hostile, stepping on Yang’s toes with her invective's. Additionally, the girl’s facial expressions and tone of voice gave the impression that she gained some warped sense of delight in attacking Yang verbally. Not that Yang would let that slide of course, but she had to keep her wits about her. Silver proved a dangerous opponent, so anyone who associated with him had to be equally dangerous. Furthermore, Yang had been terrible in keeping her promise to Weiss about being careful and considerate upon entering a fight and going about life in general. It’s not as if Weiss wanted her lover to act like she was walking upon eggshells, but similarly the heiress had proved that she wasn’t in favour of Yang blindly running into fights without stopping to take stock of what she was getting herself into. Like being impaled. Definitely not in favour of that, not that Yang was in favour of it herself. 

The girl opposite Yang refused to adopt a proper stance, bouncing from foot to foot, quietly laughing to herself as she tensed and relaxed her fingers perpetually in a manner that Pyrrha could only label as restless. She leaned forward in her seat, with Jaune to her right and Ren and Nora to her left, with the rest of Team RWBY sat directly behind them. Pyrrha hummed curiously to herself and drew the attention of Jaune over to her. 

“Pyrrha? Something the matter?” Jaune asked, that familiar hesitance mixed with genuine care and compassion that she had quickly come to love hearing, even if it was lacking the confidence she knew he was capable of. 

“That girl seems…off.” Pyrrha commented. “I am not sure what to make of her.”

“Off? Like Nora?” Jaune asked and the red-head, who had been in the midst of balancing her notebook on top of the ever-indifferent Ren’s head, whisked her head over.

“Hey! I am not off! I am eccentric!” As Nora commented, the notebook lost all semblance of balance and fell to the floor below, and she groaned in despair. Pyyrha chuckled at the antics, but soon reasserted her seriousness.

“Haven’t you noticed, Jaune? She hasn’t been too subtle.”

“Weird around here is a dime a dozen. I’ve become desensitised to it.” Jaune shrugged. 

“I suppose you may have a point. But if I was Yang I would keep my guard up.” Just as Pyrrha said this the horn to signal the beginning of the match begun. Yang launched several shots of Ember Celica immediately, pumping her arms back and forth like an industrial piston, producing explosive bolts aimed at testing her opponent’s reactions and deal any damage of possible. 

Viridian’s smile grew in both intensity and amusement, turning to the side and cartwheeling through the air effortlessly, vaulting over the bolts that had been travelling in line with her abdomen. She landed on her feet and relegated herself into a roll before stopping in a crouch. An amazed and impressed mutter came from the small crowd of students, some even going so far as to offer a small round or applause for the display of athleticism. 

Pyrrha noticed to her left came a more energetic round of applause, from the Fox Faunus on the same team as Yang’s opponent, Viridian. She seemed outwardly proud, yelling her praise of her teammate. 

“Yeah! You show her Viri!” Red praised enthusiastically. 

“Calm down! She just dodged.” Silver reprimanded his teammate. 

“It was a cool dodge.” Linen defended his partner, and she blew him a kiss. 

“They seem close.” Ren commented quietly. 

“Familial.” Pyrrha added, with the gesture of agreement coming in the form of a silent nod from Ren. 

Ruby played with her hands nervously as team JNPR continued to comment on the match itself, mostly coming from the battle-experienced Pyrrha with some silent additions from Ren that what they lacked in detail made up for in accuracy. 

“Something the matter?” Ruby jumped from the sudden question, having almost been completely unaware she was sat in the middle of a classroom. She turned to see Blake staring curiously at her, that glint in her eyes that usually implied she was aware of something even if you didn’t chose to admit it yourself. Apparently, the improved vision of being a Faunus wasn’t wholly visual but also emotional. 

“Will…Yang be okay?” Ruby asked tentatively. She was ordinarily the first to show support to her sister and believe in her ahead of everybody else. But since her injury Ruby was reluctant and tentative of Yang being overly physical. Sure, the stitches had been removed and her aura as well as the medical attention she received cleared up any overriding issues, but even so Ruby couldn’t help but feel troubled. More than that even, she felt terrified for her sister. For the first day after the news had been broken to her that Yang needed urgent medical attention and that she was in a critical condition, Ruby had found a little piece of herself died inside. She was ready to mourn just like she had Summer, even though she had known little of the woman before she passed. When appeared as though Yang would recover she was relieved, but that couldn’t compel her to forget the dark places her mind had gone, and how she never wanted that to ever happen to Yang again. It was a naïve thing to ask for, Yang was a Huntress after all and one that drew joy and revelled in living life on the edge, even if Weiss had pacified her somewhat. It didn’t go away, and now Yang seemed ready to feud with their new classmates for whatever reason. There was a cyclical sensation about how Yang was prepared to begin this all again, without even consideration for her or Weiss’ feelings. 

“Ruby, it’s Yang we’re talking about. She’ll be fine. You know better than anyone how strong she is.” Blake said.

“I hope you’re right…” Ruby finally felt like indulging herself in her shameless desires, just once would be fine. She was going through so much and worrying for her team in general so often she felt as if she had earnt the reward. She hoped Blake wouldn’t make much of it, but she couldn’t really predict how the Faunus would react. 

Ruby leaned over and rested the side of her head on Blake’s shoulder, immediately regretting mustering up the courage to do so after feeling flushed as soon as her cheek met Blake’s shoulder. Blake tensed, but soon relaxed, Ruby managed a sheepish smile and peered up at Blake to see the Raven-haired girl in the midst of her own blush, but her gaze was solely focused on the battle ahead. 

“Sorry…” Ruby apologised, nuzzling her friend for comfort. 

She could feel the most minor of shrugs from Blake, as she was trying not to disturb her partner. Or perhaps she was simply too afraid to offend her like that. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to playing team councillor.” There was a brief flash of a smile from Blake, but it was soon replaced by indifference. It was a beautiful expression, the combination of the light pink on Blake’s cheeks perfectly uniting with that glint of a smile Blake only shared with the world in the extraordinary of circumstances and with those she truly cared for. It made Ruby’s heart flutter, though she reminded herself not to read too much into it. For the time being, she would just enjoy the minor embrace.

Viridian rose back onto her feet as Yang began to launch series after series of buckshot’s mixed with explosive rounds to try and disrupt Viridian as well as throw her off balance, making sure there was no particular rhythm Viridian could discern and then devise a means to dodge Yang’s attacks. Viridian used her dexterity to its fullest extent however, utilizing a series of gymnastic techniques in an inordinate level of ways. Viridian was always sure to dodge in a manner that allowed her to hit the ground again as soon as possible, impeding Yang’s attempts to hit the girl mid-air like she had done to Pyrrha during their rematch. Light-footed and with a flexible physique, Viridian was capable of twisting and turning around any projectiles in a way fit for description as mocking. She resembled more of a classical dancer or ballerina combined with that of an Olympic gymnast, coiling and pirouetting from every shot Yang hurled in her direction. 

Eventually, mixed in with her own indescribably eccentric and astounding acrobatics, Viridian’s lips parted in a symphonic melody, beginning to sing.

"Got me something true now  
I’m not looking anymore  
The times of fakin’ love are through now  
Sharing real connections  
What we’re made for”

 

Silver coughed through a throaty laugh, hitting his chest as he shook his head in the midst of an entertained grin, having not expected Viridian’s inexplicable psychosis to manifest itself in the form of song and dance to the backdrop of minor explosions. 

“Oh good god that insane psycho is actually singing while avoiding a hail of gunfire…” Linen said incredulously, though he himself couldn’t help but watch the spectacle of the increasingly irate and Yang as Viridian continued to sway and spin her way around the arena, effortlessly avoiding any shells Yang fired in her direction.

“That’s our Viridian: Insane, surprising and nothing if not charming.” Red summarised to the collective agreement of the rest of team SLVR.

Yang growled, aggravated, that not only was every shot missing but the girl ahead of her was acting like the very antithesis to the threatening and dangerous person she had been upon making the challenge to fight Yang. Yang pulled her arms back after deciding a new course of action was needed, she let out a guttural grunt as she ran forward, immediately launching a strong and stiff right hook aimed at Viridian’s head. 

Viridian however, showed her hand-to-hand prowess by diverting Yang’s strike away with the back of her hand and forearm, before pressing forward and punching Yang in the stomach, and continuing her ballad as Yang all but ignored the attack as it proved to be an ineffectual means of countering the one-sided nature of the fight. Viridian darted back as the blonde struck back, chasing after Viridian with a mixture of attacks all of which the Maiden was able to avoid as she practically led Yang around the arena like she was walking a dog.

“Come on, let go of the remote  
Don’t you know  
You’re letting all the junk food in? 

I try to stop the flow,  
Double-clicking on the go,  
But it’s no use hey,  
I’m being consumed

Not a day goes by without me thinking ’bout  
The way the world stopped mid-motion  
When you walked into my life and we connected  
Like we shared the same mad potion  
Couldn’t help but move  
The threads of fate had spun us  
Into each other’s lives by chance  
All this energy’s got us inspired now,  
We couldn’t stop it, just set it free, and  
Dance!”

 

Yang continued to pour on the offence, punches and kicks aimed low and to the middle of Viridian’s body being dodged and blocked with a similar mix of martial arts from the Maiden with Viridian essentially copying Yang’s own style move for move without any need for digestion or practice in the move-sets or techniques employed by the blonde brawler. Yang went to sweep for Viridian’s legs, but the lighter and lither Raven and blonde haired girl aptly timed her jump to both avoid and then stomp down on Yang’s legs, mid-stanza of her melody. Yang cried out in pain, before gritting her teeth and hitting back at Viridian with a wild strike that managed to connect properly in line with Viridian’s chest, though the older girl managed to bring both arms across one another to stop it from connecting with her sternum. She slid back, the force of Yang’s strike and her own muscular dominance over the smaller of the two girls enough to project Viridian halfway across the room. 

Of course, Yang didn’t relent in the slightest in terms of her assault. She may have been easily in control and hadn't taken considerable damage, but something about this girl; Viridian, just didn’t sit right with her. Her aura felt heavy and constricting, as if it was actively trying to rob her of breath. She may have been treating the battle like it was some joke, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t skilled or dangerous. So, Yang wanted to end this as soon as she could. She led quickly with a left hook that was ducked by Viridian before immediately leading with a right that should have left the new arrival with little time to dodge. Viridian met the strike with her hands, grabbing and twisting Yang’s arm around her back whilst shoving it away, sending Yang for a dizzying spin that left the blonde wrong footed and wobbly. Viridian took a page out of her lover’s book and struck with a knee-strike to Yang’s gut followed by a forearm strike to the bridge of Yang’s nose. 

Yang stumbled, gasping as the pain from the quick strikes that were outfitted with green aura to boost their damage. Yang growled lowly, thinking to herself that she couldn’t simply fall back on her semblance just yet. She had absorbed enough damage, especially because of the aura-laden attack from Viridian, but she had a point to prove. That she could win without it, or at the very least she would only use when absolutely necessary. Without giving it much more thought, she burst forward with a lariat, making sure to centre the gold-dyed metal of Ember Celica with Viridian’s face. Viridian’s footing hadn’t yet been altered to adopt a defensive stance because of Yang’s surprisingly quick reactions. As such, she was smashed with the metal-clad left arm of Yang and found her head bouncing off the ground after being sent for a flip on the spot because of the force of Yang’s lariat. 

Viridian groaned, her musical musings being momentarily cut off prior to her rolling a few feet away from Yang and groggily got to a kneel, the world blurring around her with the colours around her mixing together along with images doubling or even tripling in multi-coloured outlines. Viridian’s head buzzed loudly, pounding with a strong headache. 

“Shut up…I won’t…just be quiet for once…” She silently fumed, whispering desperately to herself as the voices within her head cried and demanded for vengeance on the blonde girl ahead of her. Viridian quickly stole a glance at Yang, seeing that she was watching her with a mix of curiosity and perhaps even concern, the taller girl looking back to Glynda who stood with the most visible tension in her stance. Something that nobody had ever seen before. Viridian shook her head, biting her lip hard to stop herself from crying out from the pain blaring in her head. 

“Are…are you okay?” Yang asked, arms lowering down to her sides. “Sorry if I hit you too hard…”

“N-No…” Viridian shook her head, the voices becoming louder and more demanding. But she refused to listen. They had been delayed in starting their lessons precisely so Ozpin could grant Viridian proper psychological testing and treatment. Along with also being taught about the true nature of being a Maiden. In that time, Viridian was not only awoken to the weight upon her shoulders to protect people but also a motivation she had really never considered possible for herself to feel. The motivation to overcome the insistent chorus of voices trying to control her. The more she refused, the more it hurt. But she also felt more clarity than ever before. She was more aware and in more control of her faculties. Perhaps that was why in the past she was always so quick to give in, because the pain was too much to bare. Now was different however, now she wanted to be better. To improve and actually be something good for others. “I-I’m fine. Let’s finish this…” 

Yang seemed reluctant, but nodded, bringing her hands back up to continue. Viridian slowly got to her feet and looked at the gauges monitoring their aura. Yang was still in the low forties, and it would have been over already should Viridian have been doing more than just dancing around and had been using her signature sword or bow. Viridian meanwhile was in the high twenties, meaning the gap was sizable but not altogether beyond equalising. Viridian pushed off the ground and twirled through the air, kicking at the side of Yang’s head, only for the blonde to block it with her gauntlet and swiftly grabbed a hold of Viridian’s shin. She threw the Maiden down onto her back with a loud crunch, though rather than lament about a lack of connection with her attack, Viridian immediately sprung back up and jabbed at Yang’s throat, connecting this time thanks to her quicker form. 

Yang gagged hard, coughing as she massaged her throat with her hand. She saw Viridian move in and take advantage of the situation and jabbed her in the cheek twice with a swift one-two punch combination. If it hadn’t been for the discomfort in her throat and face, Yang probably would have been suitably impressed with the speed and strength behind Viridian’s attacks now. Ever since the black and blonde haired girl’s cranium had bounced off the ground it was as if her personality had completely shifted towards a serious demeanour. Any notion she wasn’t taking Yang seriously had been dispelled and even the insulting and cocky way she had challenged Yang was now non-existent. Her lips were level in a fine line, eyes burning with determination and brow furrowed in thought as to how to continue her offence. Yang didn’t understand where this source of renewed energy and competence had originated from, but her own comprehension of her opponent’s personality didn’t particularly matter right now. Viridian led with a Muaj-Thai kick to Yang’s hip that the blonde managed to block with her own leg, mirroring Viridian’s own attack to the other side of her body only for that to be blocked in the same way, their aura’s mixing and in an electrical discharge. 

Yang knew taking her eyes off her opposition would undoubtedly lead to Viridian taking advantage of the brief distraction, but she needed to see how close the two of them were to being in the red. As it stood, Viridian was only on fourteen percent of her total aura, whilst Yang wasn’t far behind on seventeen. As the rules stood once you dropped below ten the match was called off and the victor was whoever still had above that amount of aura. Essentially the next exchange would be the fight’s last, and because of how close they were Yang decided it was time to rely on her semblance. Her eyes shifted to a blood red and she errupted in a fiery explosion, the force of which was enough to propel Viridian away a few feet. 

“What the…?” Viridian said wide-eyed, being stopped mid question as Yang punched her hands together with fire and sparks surging around them as she did. Yang shouted aggressively before pulling her arms close to her sides, fists positioned in front of her. She closed the distance, dodging any punch Viridian threw by bobbing and weaving from side to side, striking with a cross to the stomach, leading with a hook to the chin and finally finishing with a strong uppercut to the chin and guttural cry from Yang. Each hit exploded with the fire and pent up energy from the damage Yang had taken, every hit pouring that excess power straight into Viridian, the first of the combination winding her, the second dazing her and the finishing blow knocking her from her feat. Viridian skidded across the ground along her back as the buzzer blared to life, indicating the end of the match.

Yang sighed, closing her eyes and letting the fires coating her die away. Meanwhile her eyes shifted back to their signature lavender, and she allowed herself to bask in the victory with the class applauding the efforts of the two girls display. 

“Nice one sis!” Ruby punched the air in celebration of her sister’s victory. Blake and Weiss clapped along with the rest of the class, sharing a smile between the two paralleling each-other’s joy in their friend and girlfriend’s win. 

“I…can’t believe Viri lost…” Red sat there, looking distraught and utterly shocked.

“She didn’t. It was her plan.” Silver said, joining in with brief applause from the other students. 

“What?” Red asked, swivelled to her team leader, who looked a combination of amused and unsurprised by the result. 

“We both know Viri’s aura vastly outmatched Yang’s. That match was too equal.”

“What are you saying Silver, did Viridian throw the match?” Linen asked.

“Not really. All that dancing and singing was meant to lower her stamina and energy so Yang’s attacks did more. She weakened herself. And she let herself be beaten for appearances sake. Not to say Yang didn’t actually throw a curveball in there with her Semblance, seemed to catch Viri unawares.” Silver explained.

“I’m not sure I follow.” Linen added.

“We wouldn’t be too popular if we stormed in on our first day, beat up the most popular student and walked away with our heads held high. Maybe not everyone would hold a grudge, but a lot would. Gotta give Viri credit where its due, I wouldn’t have held back or thought that far ahead.” Silver smirked. “She made a noble sacrifice.”

“And she made us look competitive by bringing Yang to the brink…” Red’s incredulous expression morphed into a wide grin “God damn that girl is something else…”

Yang walked over to Viridian. The new arrival was gasping and wheezing still, the gut-punch was probably thrown with a little more intent to hurt than what was possibly necessary. Then again, Viridian had said some things that naturally aggravated Yang, so she probably got off lightly. Viridian laid sprawled on her back, and Yang kneeled down by her side.

“Are you okay?” Yang asked, offering her a hand, which the Maiden took happily, smiling up at her opponent.

“Yeah…that was actually really fun.” Viridian chuckled, her expression now far more levelled and humane than the deranged way she approached Yang before. “Sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. Not really. I’m just protective over the person I love. Plus…” Viridian pointed to her head “I’m a little crazy.”

Yang glanced back to the stands above them, Weiss was clapping in a reserved manner befitting a lady of wealth and stature, though her wide grin and proud expression easily gave away just how happy she was. Yang couldn’t help but allow her eyes to linger on the heiress, smiling back to her. She was truly so beautiful and meant so much to her if someone ever did anything to Weiss Yang would happily beat them to a pulp. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” Yang helped pull Viridian back to her feet and saw Viridian extend her hand towards the blonde.

“I know you and my boyfriend don’t have the healthiest of relationships. But I’d like it we could come to some kind of truce? We don’t mean you any harm. We’re here to be regular students. Nothing more.” Yang regarded the hand in front of her for a second, thinking about it for a few minutes. It did her no good to have enemies in her own school, especially not when they could be friends instead. Perhaps it was too difficult a goal to accomplish to ever call her and Silver friends, but at the very least she could try and put some of the animosity behind them. Try to be as neutral as possible, it didn’t benefit anyone if Yang attempted to assault someone whenever they came into her sightline. She shook Viridian’s hand. She could tell Viridian was being honest, they say once two warrior’s cross blades you can read their hearts and understand them better. This was no different with their fists, and a mutual respect now lied between them.

“Agreed. Truce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Wow, another lengthy chapter. Could have been split into two parts but I thought it worked better this way. 
> 
> As we can see I am finally laying the groundwork for LadyBug. Ruby is being somewhat forward if not directly addressing how she feels. She's aware of how she feels, and I'm sure I'll expand on it and her own inner workings but she's not willing to challenge the team dynamic the way her sister did. At least not yet. 
> 
> That little song and dance number Viridian did was taken from Persona 4: Dancing All Night's theme. I only included the Female lyricists lines because they fit her better. No prizes for anyone who guesses who she's singing about, it's pretty obvious. 
> 
> I made the point about Viridian that she has a scary amount of aura when she was fighting Adam to the extent she could reform her hands and still fight on without too much fatigue. So anyone should have sceptical of Yang holding her own during the fight. As for her motivations for weakening herself: Viridian is very broken and sociopathic, yes, but her default personality is quite calm and collected whenever it pokes through. She's also aware of what Silver is like, and the ramifications of them waltzing in and putting Yang down when she's arguably the joint moist popular student in the academy (Pyrrha would of course be her rival for that) especially since it was clear they had some bad blood between them, which naturally means the student body would side with Yang. Essentially she saw the benefit of giving Yang the win. She's mentally ill, not stupid. She always thinks of her team first and foremost, so that was basically the motivation for doing so.
> 
> And Yang finally has a win, though with a small asterisk next to it. Not to mention it would seem Team RWBY and SLVR will be at least cordial with one-another. We'll see how well that goes...


	18. Revelations and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silver attempts to mend bridges, and Blake tells the sordid tale of her time in the White Fang.
> 
> WARNING: Some minor allusions/references to Rape/non-consensual acts in the latter half of this chapter.

Silver was stood in front of team RWBY’s dorm room reciting and practising his lines over and over again until he was basically blue in the face and was finding it hard to remember any other phrases or manner of articulation other than what he had been drilling into his head for the better part of three hours. The subject at hand of course, was an apology to Yang. The thought almost made him laugh, the mere idea of your would-be murder apologising to you over the incidents and confusion between them would probably offend Yang rather than lead to any forgiveness. 

Regardless, Silver believed it was necessary to at least express his regret. It had been slowly eating away at him over the days and weeks since Yang’s injury. Losing sleep was the least of his worries, seeing the girl made his chest burn with guilt and made any time they were even in the same room practically intolerable. He needed a way to put it to rest and go about life like a regular person, or as close to that fantasy as he could reach. 

Since early in the morning he and Red had been rehearsing and theorising different ways in which Yang could react to the very idea. Just in case she reacted in the worst possible manner, Silver had even practiced a few dodged, but silently decided to take any punches Yang decided to dole out to him. He probably deserved it at the least in all honesty. Viridian what Silver could only describe as a vested interest in the performances of Red as Yang and himself as Silver. She wasn’t always the most lucid in the morning, and the early rises proved that a grumpy Viridian was perhaps one of his favourites, with her quiet mumbling that was both protracted and futile in its attempts to negotiate a lengthier duration of sleep. However, the finer points or reasons behind most social interactions were lost on her, and the way she looked back and forth between them was liking watching a crowd at a tennis game track the ball back and forth. Apologising simply wasn’t something she grasped all too well, but understood Silver was determined to see it through and supported him rightly.

“I _am_ sorry… _I_ am sorry…I am _sorry_ …” Silver went back and forth over the different ways to emphasize the sentence and found he couldn’t settle on a precise method of phrasing it. “Please accept my sincerest apologies? Ugh, no. That sounds so manufactured. What about: I have wrong you, and can never take back what I have done, but please forgive me. Nah. Too melodramatic…” Silver sighed to himself “Who thought thinking of a string of words to express regret would be so damned impossible? Screw it. I’ll wing it.” Silver shrugged his shoulders in tandem with his decision, Linen was usually the brains behind any operation. Not to say Silver himself wasn’t a good tactician, but he didn’t have the patience for trivial matters such as figuring out a precise way of admitting fault and asking for forgiveness. More a man of action then statements, he believed a great quote could influence a generation, but a great action could shape all of civilization. 

Silver rasped the back of his hand on the door to Team RWBY’s room, and immediately heard a little exchange within the dorm, his ears flickering as he picked up on the details of the conversation, mostly questioning over whom could be knocking this early on a Saturday morning and whom should go answer it. A heavy set of feet walked over to the door from the other side, a recognizable weight that no doubt had to belong to Yang Xiao Long, and Silver couldn’t help but gulp just a little bit at the potential exchange of either verbal abuse or physical blows he would be subjected to. So far, every meeting they had ended in such a manner, no reason to believe this one wouldn’t be any different.

The door swung open with a brightly smiling blonde dressed in an orange tank top and black shorts. Silver noted how it wasn’t inherently different to how Red herself would dress for bed, though at least Yang had the decency to have her midriff covered or at least answer the door showing off as little as possible with the revealing answer. But Red was still his sister, and he had become vaguely tolerant of her fashion sense, to put how she attired mildly. Yang’s smile faded almost instantaneously upon realizing it was Silver who was behind the early morning disruption of Team RWBY’s leisure time, and one hand slowly curled into a fist, though Yang remained mostly stationary. 

“What do you want?” Yang made it none too clear just how little she wanted to continue this conversation longer than she had too.

“I came to apologise.” Silver stated and Yang snorted derisively. “I mean it, Yang. I never had any intention of dragging you into anything or ever hurting you…” Silver began before being interrupted by Yang.

“Save it. No apology can make up for what you’ve done. You were complicit in allowing my…” Yang gulped back the combination of anger and sadness that mixed together in her throat whenever she even thought of her Mother. “…My Mother to risk the lives of a lot of innocent people. You think a simple apology can redeem you in my eyes?”

Silver shook his head “Of course not. I know what I was doing. My job was never to be the hero, Yang. I was never given the chance, after all, I was always meant to be the person willing to do the things that the heroes thought were to monstrous to do. So you didn’t have to.” Yang bit her lip at the end of answer and considered what Silver said for a second. It was true they led very different lives and Yang should have considered that before condemning him so swiftly, but that didn’t excuse his actions. He was very aware of the implications of his actions, and was by no means an idiot. 

“Why are you here then?” Yang asked.

“If I had to be honest, I do want to put the past behind us to the best of our abilities. I get you’ll probably always despise me, I can live with that. But if we can sit in the same room without your semblance flaring up or thinking of twenty different ways you can pummel me to death, that’d be great.”

“You have an idea of how to achieve that?” Yang raised an eyebrow, acknowledging Silver’s ambition and relating to it somewhat. “Because that seems like a pretty lofty goal.”

“I was thinking you could punch-” Silver began and was interrupted by the lightning quick jab of Yang’s right hand straight to the bridge of his nose. Silver doubled back, clasping both hands over his nose that was no pouring blood. He cursed and swore in a muffled degree thanks to his hand covering his face. “I kind of deserved that…” Silver groaned out as his aura set about repairing bone and skin, leaving the blood that had stained his face to dry by itself with none more following the river that had already descended. 

“Anything else?” Yang crossed her arms over her chest, a smug smile now adorning her face. “Gotta admit, that was therapeutic.”

“Dust…what do you have in that fist, a roll of coins?” Silver asked, nose still throbbing with pain, and just shrugged “I was also considering asking if your team wanted to go for a night out on the town. I know a nice place.” Silver suggested and Yang looked absolutely incredulous. As if Silver had suggested moving the continents of Remnant by hand. 

“Excuse me?” She said, aggressiveness seeping into her voice. “You really think after one punch and an apology, that I still technically haven’t gotten, you think I’ll bring my team along and hang out like friends?”

Silver raised a solitaire finger, still bent over with his hands on his knees as he found steady breathing again “Sorry. I really am. Couldn’t be more remorseful.” Silver apologised and Yang audibly huffed. “Secondly: I respect your scepticism. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust me as far as you could throw me. But, I want to make this work. My team, all four of us, we’re leaving our old lives behind. We always thought this world had forgotten us, and didn’t want us to live peacefully or easily. We never had a reason to follow rules, because the rules had screwed us over. Now we have a chance. Yang, you were the final victim of my mistakes and I want to correct that. You see, we always tried to help people, even if our methods were dubious or reprehensible. I don’t want myself, or any of my family, to justify what we did and delude ourselves anymore about that. This is our chance to be real heroes who can do some good for others. Yang, I hurt you. And I will live with that the way I’ve always lived with costing people their lives who didn’t deserve it. But I want to make it up to you. I don’t care if it takes my entire life to achieve forgiveness, but I want to try. So, when I offer you the night out with our teams, I want us to get to know each-other. To see we’re here for the same reasons you are. I want you to see that even if what I’ve done is unforgivable to you, that my team are good people who have lived darkened lives and have simply strayed from the right path. People that deserve a second chance. We may need some guidance to better ourselves, but I can tell after fighting you there is no better person or team than RWBY for teaching us what it really means to be heroes. All I’m asking for is a second chance, to start over.” Silver finished his speech, finally standing up to see the debate behind Yang’s eyes as she stared past Silver.

“I’ll…think about it.” Yang said, unassured by her own words but nodded nevertheless. “No promises.” Yang went to close the door when Silver blocked her with his foot in-between the gap from the frame and the door itself. 

“One more thing: Can I speak to Blake? Privately.” Silver requested and Yang turned to her Faunus partner, who was reading a book on her bed. Her Cat-ears under her bow stood to attention, although she had still very much been aware of everything that had been said between Yang and Silver thanks to her improved sense of hearing. 

“Sure.” Blake said simply and got up to her feet, putting on a pair of slippers by the foot of her bed and walked outside to where Silver was waiting, Blake closing the door behind herself as she joined Silver, who was leaning on the wall opposite her dorm room. He was still rubbing his nose somewhat, though not out of pain so much at the uncomfortable sensation of dried blood inside it. 

“Blake Belladonna…” he said her name curiously. “So, it is you. Never expected you to be in Beacon Academy, then again I never expected to be in Beacon either.” Silver chuckled distantly. 

“I’m sorry? Have we ever met before?” Blake asked confusedly. 

“Right, sorry. Should have specified what I meant. Back when my team and I were an independent unit of mercenaries we used to do the odd job for the White Fang. Usually I worked for Adam Taurus or somebody close to him.” Blake tensed up at the mention of Adam, and became very aware of how she didn’t have Gambol Shroud with her. She knew Silver had no intention to hurt her or bring her back to Adam, but that didn’t prevent her from jumping to conclusions. Having her weapon on her person would at least offer her some sense of comfort. “Anyway, he mentioned you by name from time to time and spoke very highly of you, though I never got to meet you. That’s why I didn’t notice you the first time we met.” Silver explained. The weight of the two objects in his pocket became heavier the closer he approached the topic he needed to inform Blake about. He couldn’t tell how she’d react, though since she left the White Fang and had come to Beacon to become a Huntress he could at least assume she wouldn’t try and kill him. Silver reached into his pocket and withdrew the two broken halves of Adam Taurus’ White Fang Grimm mask, still smeared with dry blood and singes. 

Blake’s amber eyes widened, her irises shrinking in shock at the shattered remains of a mask she knew all too well even in its broken state. The red linings and signature double slits over where the wearers eyes would be stationed were signs it belonged to her former superior and lover in the White Fang, Adam Taurus. The mask by itself would mean nothing, but the blood, fractures and dark black burns gave Blake more than enough evidence to properly grasp exactly what Silver was trying to convey.

“My former employer gave me this before we came here. As a memento of our missions together. I honestly didn’t know what to do with it. Adam was, at one time, a confident and dare I say it; a friend. And then I remembered you. Once Adam become far less discriminatory and merciless, we stopped our mutual aid to one another. I heard he was abusive towards you, and thought you would at least like to know you don’t have to fear him anymore, Blake…” Blake’s wide and disbelieving eyes moved towards the mask and Silver graciously offered it after noticing her hands. She cautiously hesitated, withdrawing her hands before Silver beckoned her to take it and comprehend for herself that it was in fact reality, motioning the two halves to Blake. Eventually, with shaky and uncertain hands, Blake took the two halves in her hands, still trying to convince herself it wasn’t real.

“You…did you…? No. You couldn’t have…I saw him…the Attack on Beacon…” Blake’s cool demeanour was torn down, her voice shaken and mixed with sobs. Silver couldn’t exactly tell if it was a tragic and distraught reaction to learning a man she once loved had finally gone so far that powers finally conspired against him to end his stranglehold on the White Fang in Vale, or relief at knowing the man who had been hunting her down could no longer touch her. 

“We decided he was too dangerous, and had damaged the Faunus reputation beyond what could be deemed acceptable. Plus he was working with people my previous employer blamed for the Attack on Beacon, reason enough to eliminate him.” Silver’s eyes betrayed the formal manner in which he described the decision he and Raven had come to months ago. He stared at the ground, his expression dejected and disillusioned. “He was something all Faunus looked at with pride once. Someone who physically protected us like a chivalrous knight, defending the Faunus and taking the sword to our enemies without spilling blood. I don’t know what changed him, but the man I respected spilt human and Faunus blood at the Attack on Beacon. That, was unforgivable.” Silver sneered at the floor.

“Who…killed him? Silver? Please. Tell me.” Blake pleaded, her hands tightening around the remnants of Adam’s mask. 

“I did. With my own two hands.” Silver grimaced “I didn’t even hesitate. It was him or Viridian.” Blake took a few moments to let that sink in. The man in front of her killed Adam. Adam, the man who once convinced her she was the most important person in his life and he would do anything for her smile. A man who thought for all Faunus, but her especially. Someone she was inspired by and had willingly followed him along his search for justice, and committed acts no person could forgive. All for his love. 

But everyone had their limits, and the needless sacrifice of innocent lives proved to be Blake’s breaking point. She left him, abandoned him, everything they built was torn down in seconds as she disconnected that train car. Every day she both regretted it and celebrated it. She never really stopped loving him, and she hoped the realization that his actions cost him the person he loved would have convinced him his actions were too extreme. To convince Adam there was a better way to reach their shared goal of equality. But somewhere down the line the idea of equality became what he considered a fool’s errand. He aligned himself with dark powers, and contradicted every message he preached about supremacists being scum. He had become no different, if not potentially worse. 

It was so painful to think of, and Blake could feel her heart breaking. Her first and only love was not only over but now unreconcilable. She was more alone than ever before, and it was so overwhelming. She didn’t hate Silver for what he had done, she knew somewhere that it was probably the right thing to do and that the fact he had willingly come to admit his guilt in the action was a brave and admirable action. By no means however, did it make it any easier to stomach Adam was truly gone, forever. 

She couldn’t stand this emotional storm brewing within her, the complicated mix of regret, disappointment, relief, sadness and anger was all too much to bare. She needed to run. Run like she always did. Abandon all and everyone and be selfish once more. There was too much pain now. And she was not a brave person. Not like Silver, not like Yang, not like Ruby. They would stand and fight, tackle their problems head on and never regret what they had failed or succeeded in. No, Blake was not your average hero capable of facing the untold horrors with a cocky smirk or straight-faced bravery. She was a coward who ran whenever she saw the opportunity, echoed in her semblance. 

The door to team RWBY’s dorm opened, and a pyjama-wearing Ruby Rose wondered out. “Hey Blake, just checking to see if…” Ruby noticed the conflicted and painful expression written on both Silver and Blake’s faces, though the latter of the two couldn’t take her eyes off her hands, not even taking the time to acknowledge her existence. “Are you okay?” Ruby reached out to the Cat-Faunus, but her hand just phased through Blake’s arm, and the image of Blake disappeared. “Huh?!” Ruby exclaimed wildly. She looked down both sides of the hall, but saw no traces of Blake. “Blake?! Blake! Where did you go?!” Ruby cried, looking around frantically before turning to give Silver the angriest expression she could muster. “What did you tell Blake?! Where is she?!”

“I-I don’t know where she is!” Silver admitted, dumbstruck and confused. “She was right here and…” Silver recalled back to his fight against Blake and Yang, and the sequence in which Blake had used her semblance to leave behind a clone of herself to trick him. “She ran by using her semblance as a decoy…guess it was too much for her to handle…” He smacked his forehead and groaned in frustration at himself. “One step forward and two steps back, great work, Aloi…”

“What did you say to her?!” Ruby demanded.

“That I killed her ex, Adam Taurus…” Silver admitted, banging the back of his head against the wall he was leant against. 

“H-Her ex? Adam? The guy from the Attack on Beacon?” Ruby’s eyes widened.

“The very same. I was working to take down the White Fang for months, and I landed the killing blow on him. Not that that’s important. We should split up and look for Blake. I’m sure she can fill you in on everything else.” Ruby nodded in agreement. 

“I’m gonna tell my team and JNPR as well, what about you?” Ruby asked.

“She can’t have gotten far, and I have no idea just how badly she’ll end up taking this, but I’m going to try and get a vantage point. Not many people are out and about, so hopefully I’ll spot her if she’s outside pretty easily. Give me your Scroll details, and I’ll contact you if I find anything.” Ruby acquiesced to Silver’s plans and they traded numbers.

“I’ll do the same. Let’s find us a Blake!” Ruby held one fist in line with her face determinedly and Silver smiled, nodding in agreement. 

 

Ruby found herself running up several flights of stairs as she headed towards the apex of the student dormitories building whilst intermittently activating her semblance to bound up the actual steps, only stopping to run without bursting into rose petals whenever the staircase coiled around in the other direction. 

Like she had informed Silver, she explained the absence to the rest of team RWBY as well as team JNPR in order to expand their search and cover more ground, as well as hopefully find the Raven-haired girl quicker. Ruby didn’t have much time to explain the greater details, nor was she herself excessively informed due to her trigger-happy temperament to reactive without applying much thought for the wider scenario. Yang was initially consumed in the inferno that was her fury, in a similar fashion to Ruby’s own impatience in the form of how easily it could be set off, and wanted to “question” Silver over why he said what he said as well as why he had told Blake to begin with, putting it in the cleanest context possible as the blonde had been far bolder in her expletively mixed statement. Weiss, no pun intended, was naturally the cooler head of the couple and persuaded Yang to think it through and consider what was more important: finding Blake. This somewhat pacified Yang, though by no means did it rid her of her rage or suspicion of the Wolf-Faunus. Ruby could relate with her sister’s suspicions, but the brief explanation Silver gave on the matter and his intentions to help find Blake helped exonerate him of any ill intent. 

JNPR was naturally ready to help, and wasted little time in needing an excessive amount of details, with Weiss staying behind to articulate the matter at hand as the Xiao Long-Rose sisters opted to check the courtyards and upper levels of the school between them. 

Ruby finally made it up to the top floor of the building complex, shoving the heavy-metal door that separated the stairwell from the roof itself. She found herself out of breath, which was odd for the team leader, she had built up a surprisingly high level of stamina and tolerance of fatigue over the years, which she personally attributed to her quote unquote “healthy diet” of Milk and cookies. In all actuality, it probably had more to do with her constant physical activities and the fact her semblance only increased movement speed as opposed to moving her large distances, as such Ruby could do a three-hour marathon in about thirty minutes based on the differences in speed generated. It was easier to think of her semblance as one that simply decreased time but also proportionally raised the physical toll to reach a certain distance. As such because of the frequency in which Ruby regularly used her semblance she managed to develop a very large stamina pool, a very helpful skill to rely on when on a long Grimm hunt. Unfortunately, it didn’t translate well into managing to stay conscious for Professor Port’s lectures but that was neither here nor there. Additionally, reaching her goals quicker over the course of her adolescent life had made what would have already been a period of a child’s life relatively impatient into a powder keg of easily ignitable energy. When you can travel at a consistently high-velocity and get to where you want to quicker than anybody else, who has the patience to wait around? 

Regardless, Ruby being so exhausted when she had only travelled several flights of stairs may have been an innocuous side effect of a prolonged sprint for most, but for Ruby she was very conscious and confused of it. Perhaps her worry for Blake and the nervous energy was providing her with a mild panic attack, which certainly would not help in the search for her teammate. 

Fortunately, as soon as she had opened the door to the roof of the building and her eyes grew accustom to the blinding light of the newly positioned morning sun, she saw the unmistakable black flowing hair of the Cat-Faunus in full flow from the morning breeze. She was sat on the edge of the building, legs hanging over the edge and head tilted down towards her lap. Ruby gave an audible sigh of content in seeing Blake had not gone far and not done anything reckless. She was still on campus and seemed perfectly stationary, with no obvious intentions to go anywhere as of yet. 

Ruby thought of tiptoeing over the Blake, but soon found out that particular method of traversing the distance between them wouldn’t go unnoticed. For one, the heavy-metal door wasn’t exactly subtle, creaking like the screams of a dying antelope. Secondly, Blake’s sense of hearing was so finetuned that even had Ruby managed to avoid racket emanating from the door, she could easily pick up on the pitter-patter of Ruby’s feet on the ground. 

“Ruby…” Blake said, her voice hoarse like she had been crying, her arm even shooting up to her face to hastily wipe away the tears that Ruby knew were there; even if she couldn’t see them. “I bet Yang was mad, huh?” there was that whimsical tune about the way Blake always questioned the world in her voice, the rhetorical device she used whenever she was already aware of the answer. It would have been much more relaxing if it wasn’t mixed with sniffles and hiccups indicative of sadness. 

Ruby stopped halfway across from the entrance to the roof and Blake, wondering how close she should get to Blake not to scare her or push the girl too far. It was clear she was not in a happy or comfortable place. Yet Blake still patted the space next to her, motioning for Ruby to join her. “She wanted to punch Silver, again.” Ruby couldn’t help but manage a small smile, and Blake even chimed in with a half-hearted chuckle. 

“He doesn’t deserve it.” Blake stated.

“He doesn’t?” Ruby tilted her head.

“No. I should thank him if anything.” Ruby finally reached Blake, sitting down beside her teammate. As ever, Blake was hard to read. Stoic, expressionless, crafted perfectly with years of practice and training to hide her emotions and blur her intentions from those around her. But her puffy eyes, raw and red from the tears she had obviously been spilling told an all-together more painful tale, one Ruby wanted desperately to quell and bring an honest smile back to Blake’s face. 

“Blake? What happened?” Ruby asked, tentatively, and Blake seemed confused by the question.

“What do you mean? Didn’t he tell you about-” 

“I want to hear it from you. We’ve never asked about the White Fang or your time there, and you’ve only ever been vague! We respected your privacy because we never cared about who you were, just who you are, and that’s our Blakey! Our friend and teammate! The super mysterious and awesome Ninja: Blake!” Blake managed another laugh, this time more honest and spontaneous. “But now I want to know. I want to know because clearly something happened in the past, with this Adam guy or whatever. I want to know because I don’t want to sit by and watch this hurt you…” Ruby reached out and caressed one of Blake’s hands, balled over something in her hands. Her own cheeks flushed, but she pushed it to one side. Much as it excited her to be so casually touching her first major crush, she had to consider Blake’s feelings for now. “So please, tell me? Pretty please? With a cherry on top? And a whole bag of cookies? Cause I’m that sweet?” Ruby nervously smiled, laughing reflexively to try and dispel tension, though Blake seemed to appreciate Ruby’s meandering. Blake sighed, and opened her hands for Ruby to see the mask, dyed with dark burgundy blood; a sign it had been there a while. 

“When I was six years old, I joined the White Fang. Back then it meant something different. It was peaceful, it protected Faunus through political and social pressure, not militancy and bloodshed. My parents ran the White Fang, and it was at least respected by neutrals instead of feared like it is today. But younger, more violent and passionate members began to demand a more direct approach to Faunus-human relations. Essentially, they would deliver warnings that if they didn’t see improvement their followers wouldn’t just strike, they would vandalize and destroy. They would exert new pressures on society. I’m not proud to say it, but people like me and Adam, we wanted that violent change.” Blake ran a thumb over the mask, looking repentant and distant, recalling images and events that Ruby couldn’t truly see for herself but knew Blake felt a deep sense of guilt. “Then when that didn’t work, we became a guerrilla outfit. We decided that the products made through unfair working conditions of the Faunus belonged to the Faunus: Dust, food, weapons; anything; we claimed it as our own. Adam rose to prominence because he inspired young and old alike with his message of equality, protection and justice. I idolized him, and cast my parents more moderate message aside and abandoned them for him. He was strong, calm under pressure and a natural leader. It wasn’t exaggerative to say that some labelled him as the Faunus Messiah…” Ruby sat quietly, as Blake snickered to herself, which was very uncommon of the Raven-haired girl. “It was very stupid, looking back at it. We put so much faith and pressure on him that Adam couldn’t really take it. Any failure was lumped on him, and any success became his and his alone. He lost touch with the grassroots and those who helped him to power, either through resentment or hatred because he couldn’t change their position overnight. I shut my eyes off from the truth. The fact it was…breaking him. When a slower more thought out move might of work, he became impatient and quick to anger. He needed a method that would work quicker. He had to abandon his principles and adopt new ones to achieve his goal. At first, he only enlisted the Faunus, but with time he started accepting the help of humans and…benefactors. Shady individuals who bankrolled even more extreme measures. He became intolerant of criticism and lashed out at anyone who didn’t fall in line.” Blake took a shaky breath. “Even me.”

Ruby’s eyes widened “Blake…did he…?” Ruby gulped back, unable to finish her question. Thankfully, however disheartening and painful it was to watch, Blake nodded in affirmation.

“We grew close, and I was his trusted right hand and…lover. He was much older than me. Six years. I was young and stupid, blinded by passion and anger at the system I was born into. But I matured, I grew conscious of how we were sliding further and further away from the message of equality he had preached about. I confronted him, tried to reason with him, but one day…he grew tired of it. He would hit me. Scream at me, make me submit to his will and forced me to accept his “reality” of the Faunus. I stupidly convinced myself he was right and I was just being ignorant, that’s why he was the leader and I was the follower. Eventually, I don’t know if it was a bad mission, someone had told him something he didn’t want to hear or if he had fallen so far consent didn’t matter anymore…” Ruby’s eyes grew as wide as they ever had been, and she felt herself crying for Blake. She was silent, but producing tears. Her hands shook, and she felt like vomiting. 

“How could he…do that to you?” Ruby asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She wanted more than anything to just grab Blake and hold her, but that wouldn’t do any good. The dam that was holding the torrent of Blake’s past was opened, and the only good that could come of it was to let it spill out. To finally let Blake, tell her tale. 

Blake shrugged, in response to Ruby’s question, her eyes dark and cold. “I couldn’t tell you why. It hurt. Physically and emotionally. He said if they treated us like animals we should act like animals, and that if I loved him I would let him. So I did. I let him. Again, and again. And you want to know the worst part?” Blake smiled, scornfully “I convinced myself he was right. Even after all that, I told myself I loved him and he was right.” Blake spat, contemptuous of her younger self. “Finally, when he threatened to kill dozens of innocent humans aboard a train carrying SDC containers filled with Dust without even a shred of remorse, I severed ties. I did what I always do, no matter how determined I am; I ran. I ran, knowing no matter where I want or how far I went, his obsessiveness would see our paths cross again, and the people I love hurt. We saw that at Beacon, no doubt he was motivated to attack there just to get at me…the lives he took there are on me. Their blood, is on me.” Blake continued, letting the steady stream of emotions overtake her usual deadpan and stoic personality, tears racing down her face “But do you know what, above all else, is the most tragic part of all this? When I should have been relieved that I’d never have to worry about him hurting you, or the other people I love and consider family, when Silver told me he killed Adam I…I felt sad. I should have been happy, or perhaps angry that I didn’t get to do it but I felt sad. Upset. Robbed of somebody important to me. Because I knew somewhere inside him was the person I loved, the man I felt inspired by. It had become corrupted and perhaps irredeemable, but he did exist once. I couldn’t love anyone in the same way as I did him.”

Ruby’s eyes drifted down, dejected and defeated. Tears that had been shed in sympathy for Blake, were now well and truly her own mark of misery. 

_‘I couldn’t love anyone in the same way as I did him.’_

That was painful to hear for Ruby. It felt like a gut punch, one of the strongest Yang could throw from how winded she felt. She had repeatedly told herself of the futile nature regarding her attempted courting of Blake. It simply wasn’t meant to be, they were too different and although Jaune and Pyrrha and Weiss and Yang had shown it could be accomplishable in dating a teammate, Ruby believed it would disrupt their dynamic as a team from the awkwardness that would exist between Ruby and Blake after Ruby had been shot down. 

_‘You’re too young.’_

_‘You’re too much work.’_

_‘You have no idea what you’re doing’_

_‘I don’t like you that way.’_

Ruby had prepared herself for the typical excuses for why it couldn’t work, but not that Blake had such a tragic and unhealthy romance, if it could even be labelled as such, that she was effectively ruined for dating. That everyone else would pale in comparison. It was disheartening. 

Still, she owed it to her team to try and cheer Blake up. Just because her selfish desire was proven impossible to achieve, that didn’t mean she should throw her toys out the pram and be utterly selfish, did it? The hero didn’t quit being selfless because they no longer gained out of their good deeds. 

“Blake, thank you.” Blake raised an eyebrow, confused by Ruby’s thanks. “It means a lot that you shared something so traumatic and painful. But I promise you, none of team RWBY will think less of you. Everybody deserves a second chance, and I guess we never get over our first love. It’s pretty special, but I know you did the right thing. It’s proven by the fact you’re on our side, and even went toe-to-toe with Adam and risked your lives for innocent humans and Faunus, something he would never do. You’re upset because you lost a piece of yourself, a piece of your past, that you help use as an example of what you never want to become. You’re too strong to be like him. Learning of his death just opened up a lot of baggage you thought you left behind. It’s grief. Grief you gotta let go of.” Ruby managed a small smile, a beautiful smile. With the backdrop of the rising sun blending in with Ruby’s features and that adorably beautiful curvature of her lips made Blake’s heart skip a beat in ways it hadn’t in years. Why? Blake couldn’t tell. But it was heart-warming to see Ruby look at her like that, without judgment or prejudice. She was innocent, but not ignorant. It made the expression all the more sweeter to know Ruby’s smile came from a flat statement of trust but founded upon what was the truth. She still trusted Blake despite knowing the implications of what she herself had done, and her role in the fall of the White Fang into the extremist group it is. Perhaps a regular person should have hated Blake, or at least told her she was the architect for her own misery and sadness, but Ruby wasn’t most people. She enveloped Ruby in a hug, grasping tightly around Ruby’s neck and shoulders.

“Thank you…thank you so much for being my friend, Ruby, you don’t know how much you mean to me! You’re too good for me, to hear all my horrible and tormented past and still smile like I’m just the mysterious one…” Blake sobbed, and felt the soothing caress of her friend’s hand running along her head and down her long Raven tresses. 

“And you don’t know how much you mean to me, Blake…” Ruby smiled, holding Blake closer to her chest for the older girl to rest there and cry out her grief and sorrow over the loss of Adam. It was bittersweet to have Blake so close to her, and crying over the loss of someone else.

Painfully bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hoped you enjoyed.
> 
> Quicker summary than normal since there's not too much to explain: Silver is completely fine with Yang hating him as long as it's not to the detriment of the people around them but would rather them move past their animosity and develop some form of friendship. Whether or not Yang will agree to this is obviously up in the air, but she's not so prideful she'd waste an opportunity to put all of this behind her.
> 
> Blake's history is darker than the actual show, which implied Adam was abusive but perhaps not overly sexual. I don't think that makes a lot of sense, personally, and I think it was done to keep the show somewhat open to most audiences. The guy has shown to be psychotically obsessive over Blake and sexual exploitation given how close/how few morals he has only seems in line with his character, regardless of how dark it is to write and sick it makes me to think he got of so lightly in this story. 
> 
> Awww, poor Ruby. Very painful thing to hear and experience from the person she likes. But she'll find a way, she always does.


	19. Cinderella Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our old foes begin to make their sinister intentions known.

Blood splattered all over the walls, corpses strewn about with limbs and flesh torn and slashed inches deep. Wild trails of bullet-holes scattered in every which way and direction in the once pristine white science lab, now the personification of wanton destruction, chaos and death. Test tubes and vials once neatly stacked upon the desks and apparatuses were shattered, contents spilled and ruined mid experiment. 

One women remained, retreating slowly to the back wall of the room, her eyes darting helplessly to her fallen and slain colleagues. Her eyes were shaken, wide and terrified, like a cornered prey being stalked by its intimidating and starving predator. Her back hit the wall, and she whimpered, drawing her arms inwards; grasping at her own elbows. She hunched over, knowing there was nowhere left to go. The point of a blade pressed to her chest, forcing her to straighten up as the pressure being applied informed her it was on the precipice of being forced through her chest cavity.  
She looked up, scared but at least somewhat determined to meet her death with some bravery. Or perhaps it was that natural scientific curiosity that led her into her current field to study the person in front of her. Dark skin, red eyes, pale green hair, a sharp jawline and unflinching harshness as well as experience in her unrelenting glare. 

The weapons pressed to her chest were a pair of convertible revolver-sickles, with the proximity to such a weapon and their clearly aged and regularly used state due to the scratches and chips along the weaponry helped to imply they had seen a great deal of combat caused the woman to beg to whatever deity she believed in to offer her some minor mercy. 

“Now, now. She’s the last one left, no need to skewer the poor thing.” The woman opened her eyes that had been tightly shut at the sound of the soft and tempting voice, mired in self-assurance whilst being cryptically ambiguous, as if everything said hid a deeper meaning. The green haired girl backed off, relenting in her pressure but kept a close guard of the woman, who relaxed as much as her body let her despite the anxiety and fear laced in her muscles. She told herself it was probably only a momentary reprieve, but she wasn’t in pain. Not physically at least. 

She looked ahead of herself to see an ashen-black haired woman; with bright amber eyes. She wore a dark-red, off-the-shoulders, V-neck mini-dress with yellow designs. There was a blue feather-like accessory on her right hip, at the top of an open portion of her dress. The dress ended in an upside-down triangular tail in the back, ending just above the knees. She walked with a sway of her hips and a swagger, confidence permeating off of her like the fires and bright orange aura burning around her eyes. She was the striking image of beauty, danger and power. It was heavy and strong with a strong burning sensation running all across the remaining female scientists body, sweat running down her and what little strength she had was being sapped quick by the ashen-haired woman’s dense and strong aura along with the blazing heat filling the room as she neared her. 

“Shhh,” The Ashen-haired woman implored, bringing her hand to cup the woman’s chin, tilting her head so they looked eye-to-eye, a teasing and natural smile resting on the aura-drenched woman’s face. Her cool and calmly collected demeanour was infectious, but even so the scientist wouldn’t let herself be controlled or coerced through any means, this person had killed her friends and co-workers in cold blood. The fact she was touching her was sickening. “I only want to know where you keep the codes for Vale’s anti-Grimm defences. And then we will take our leave.” She smiled, her lip curving in a confident and alluring gesture, but the female scientist ripped her chin from her grasp and her eyes darted away to the ground below. 

“T-They’re useless! Why do you want them anyway?” The scientist asked, and the confident smile of the Ashen-haired woman faded, being momentarily replaced with confusion. 

“Excuse me? Repeat that. How in anyway could such a vital aspect of the Kingdom’s defences be useless?” She asked, cocking her head to the side robotically. 

“S-Somebody beat you to the punch…” the scientist found a morbid sense of humour in admitting the truth to her and her team’s attackers, she was resigned with death. No chance she was going to be allowed to live, the merciless band of attackers made it perfectly clear with the other scientists and employees within the Black-site they worked in that survivors and witnesses were not an idea they were willing to entertain. “A boy, a Faunus, broke into our facility some weeks ago and stole all our data. We found it reuploaded later that very day but we couldn’t access it, still can’t, it’s amazing programming. No way to alter it without the system shutting down on itself and altering the makeup of the entire code.” She laughed dryly. “They must have known you were coming…”

The ashen-haired woman growled to herself, turning on her heels, and her hands balled into fists, flames licking at her knuckles as they went pure white. “Silver Aloi, what a contemptable little rodent you are…” she spat quietly, before recomposing herself and turned to look at the female scientist once more. “How very interesting. You appear to know something, so tell me about this thief. Is he at large?” 

“I-I w-wouldn’t know. Everything regarding the theft and any suspects has remained classified…” The amber-eyed assailant drink in the information with a distant gaze, slowly understanding the ramifications of what was said. She appeared disappointed, but remained largely impassive by the comments. The Ashen-woman turned on her heels and began walking away, clicking her fingers and the green haired woman followed after her. They walked towards a Silver haired boy, taller than the two of them. He was leaning against the frame of a shattered glass-plane at the front of the room, the magnetic lock of the door it connected to severed and broken beyond repair. He acted aloof and disinterested, his boots still steaming from firing the initial rounds that had killed so many of the men and women who had been working in the facility with ruthless efficiency. The ashen-haired woman clicked her fingers once more and he fell in tow with her as well, flanking her other side to the darker-skinned woman. 

“Then you are useless to me.” She waved her hand through the air, a wall of flames exploding behind her and roared into an inferno, igniting across the entire room. The female scientists cries of pain and agony were drowned out by the deafening crackle of the flames absorbing her. “Pray tell, where is Miss Politan?” Cinder asked, looking to Mercury as the trio walked onwards past the remnants of what was once a secure underground facility, now mired in destruction and littered with broken glass and half-melted concrete. 

“She was securing the getaway vehicle and our disguises.” 

“How wonderful.” Cinder flashed a sinister smile, not all had been achieved in her expedition to the Vale government’s secret research black-site, but at the very least she had undone all the research and advancements they had been working on. With time, and the correct approach, Vale itself would follow suit. 

 

Cinder carefully paced back and forth in the secret hideout she had fashioned by the pawns under her control below a warehouse in Vale’s docks. The lighting was low, with one of the bulbs in her own personal office flickering and emitting a powerfully frustrating buzzing noise that was driving Cinder insane in conjuncture with all the other minor and major failures she was experiencing since returning to Vale. 

The room itself was scarcely decorated, Cinder did not need nor care for personal affects, just a desk and chair for when her legs grew weary as well as a board in which she made the odd note to record minor or important thoughts. She was a soldier on the frontlines, not a teenager who needed to stuff some decorative element into every corner and plaster every wall with an insight into what she liked. The walls were a dull grey, several cracks running down the corners and ceiling of the walls, displaying the age of the underground hideout. It had been there for some time and proved an adequate means of avoiding the general populace with a low-level chance of being found. Not many people made it their business to hang around the docklands of Vale, not much ever happened bar the odd Dust heist every now and again. The only people who could find the secret entrance to the hideout would be shipping investigators looking about for discrepancies within the warehouse itself, but they were easily bribed and always looked the other way. Men were easily swayed creatures who just needed the right motivation to be willingly manipulated. Cinder had learnt to use this skill as often as possible, it eliminated personal risk and proved to be a universally applicable means of acquiring what she needed. 

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, displaying a uniquely rare level of emotion and frustration. She usually kept her confident smile, but it was a façade of sorts; one to hide her true intentions and lull those around her into a false sense of security. Not that it mattered how emotive she chose to be, she had momentary privacy as she collected her thoughts.

Of course, it had to be Silver Aloi. Who else could so casually disrupt her plans, intention to or not? Three months ago he had somehow found a way to nullify Emerald’s powers to prevent team RWBY’s Yang from being a sacrificial lamb in order to create paranoia and distrust. Then, much like now, he had taken the pre-emptive measures of hacking into Atlas’ android units and Armada that had been present at the Vytal Festival. Finally, he had routed the White Fang and reduced their numbers by the dozens because of that vicious lapdog of his: Viridian Aurora. From out of the blue he had arrived and quickly threw her plans into chaos and disarray. In such a short time he accomplished a victory over her and arrogantly fled back into the shadows, leaving her astonished and confused. He angered her, enraged her, and she wanted nothing more than to bring the cocky man to his knees and eliminate the nuisance he presented. She was lucky enough that by the grace of the mayhem and confusion of the battle she managed to find the Fall Maiden unattended and eliminated her, gaining the second half of her powers she initially failed to acquire. But it was a small victory, she had failed to kill Ozpin, Beacon still stood, and the international relations and alliances between the Four Kingdoms remained entirely intact. 

Her failures had been stacking up, and Salem had been very clear in just how disappointed she was in Cinder’s inabilities to complete what she had determined necessary objectives in completing their goal. Although proud in regards to Cinder assuming the mantle of the Fall Maiden, that was hardly enough to make up for her failures. Failures Cinder had been punished for. The freedom granted to her was slowly being reined in by her Mistress, with the threat of being replaced looming over her head. The subsequent fact she had been outmanoeuvred by Silver Aloi and his cohorts would do little to regain the favour she had lost with Salem. There was no doubt in her mind out of the six lieutenants on Salem’s council that she was most trusted, revered, and adored by their dark Mistress. But even so that afforded Cinder little leeway in how expendable she was considered. Salem demanded success, their goal was not one that could afford anything but complete success. That is why, despite her immediate failure to calculate Silver’s continued interjection in her plans, she had formulated a backup plan. The demise of Adam Taurus was an unfortunate event, but it presented an interesting alternative…

A knock came from Cinder’s door. Cinder responded by rising from the desk she found herself bent over, seething angrily at Silver Aloi and his unwanted interference. She heaved a sigh, and crossed her arms, adopting an air of grace and composure. Despite her anxieties over another failure and growing rage at Silver, she had to keep up appearances. As a leader, it was necessary to keep moral and confidence high. 

“It’s open.” She stated, and Emerald nudged the door open, poking her head inside. 

“Hello, Ma’am.” She blushed slightly, looking a great deal more timid than she’d ever allow Mercury to see or anyone beyond Cinder, for that matter. Cinder understood why, and Emerald appeared like she was aware hiding the reason why was essentially useless. Emerald was someone who never had anyone who cared much for her or the attributes she possessed. Showing the slightest amount of compassion and acknowledgement of worth had led Emerald to subsequently develop feelings for her superior, Cinder. Whilst Cinder had little interest in allowing for such fraternisation, she was aware it brought about complete subjugation to Cinder’s whims, and therefore made Emerald a very useful pawn in her plans. As such, she felt no immediate need to kill off Emerald’s hopes and dreams, if anything it was fun to watch her squirm and act in such a contrasting manner to the ruthless killer she had proved herself to be time and time again. 

“Emerald, do you have a reason for disrupting my privacy?” Cinder smirked, she cared little for privacy in all reality, but seeing how Emerald would scamper around for an excuse was entertaining.  
Emerald bit down on her lip, shuffling her weight around nervously as if she was prepared to have something thrown at her. Cinder was aware the former urchin had probably grown up in and around households that most likely dealt with disobedience or general interference through such means, which no doubt had a positive effect on her near silent movement and athletic dexterity. Regardless, Cinder took a degree of pleasure in observing the conditioned behaviour, revelling in the knowledge she could fill Emerald with fear. 

“L-Lucian has returned from Atlas on that errand you sent him on…” Emerald has her eyes fixed on the floor, and for the first time since her anxieties had flared up over her failure Cinder could finally feel some relief and delight over a success. It was plausible Lucian could have failed, but he was sent to Atlas on a mission that could only end in success or death. His return was auspicious to say the least.  
Cinder’s lips curled into a predatory smile. She dragged her finger down her plum lips as if she was basking in the afterglow.

“Splendid.”

 

Cinder trotted down the halls of the underground complex they had secretly constructed in Vale. It hadn’t been a difficult task to accomplish, with enough Lien any contractor or Kingdom officials’ heads would conveniently turn a blind eye and do as was asked of them. Those involved would convince themselves nothing nefarious would be done, trying to justify their actions and trick themselves into believing their moral compass still pointed in the righteous direction. Human morality was fickle and an unreliable measure to base one’s decisions on, or so Cinder thought anyway. She had seen men betray convictions and principles so often for material gain. The only way you could ever judge someone’s character was off their greed and lust. That was the true face of humanity, selfish creatures seeking to improve their own pitiful stake. Cinder actually admired it, after all she had decided she would live for herself and her goals. Power. Power was all she cared for. For everything and everyone to lick and lap at her heels and demand to satisfy her. She would tear her own species asunder and reconstruct them in her image if they refused. It was her own dedication to this end that confused her so much about humanity. Why would care for family? Love? Society? Nation? System? When instead you could use that greed to rule over all. Why be satisfied throwing your convictions to one side just for some abstract wealth in the form of Lien? Why not, instead, look for the only currency that mattered: Power and influence. Strength and Lordship. Everything else was humans, time after time, attributing value to things that would decay and wither. Things that would one day turn to ash and rot. But power? Power was so much different. People obeyed and worshipped their predecessors and their achievements like none other. Only mortality robbed Kings and Priests from being treated first-hand like the Gods they could be. Stringing men and women along like cattle, with their anthems of speech and actions of valour and domination. Cinder’s goal was to always supersede this notion of mortality and rule over her species like they had always deserved. A true god. Not some pussyfooted and benevolent fool who would run at the first sign of harmony like the elder Brother who helped shape mankind and that of Remnant. Salem had promised Cinder this, she would ascend the throne of mankind and sit there evermore, truly powerful and unstoppable. 

Cinder would be God. Not benevolent, not kind, not being dictated by some foolish notion of right and wrong. She would live entirely for herself. Wiping out city and people on a whim, blessing others as she saw fit. Who knows? Emerald had proven a competent lapdog. Maybe she would consider letting her sit by her feet as she ruled. Yes, Cinder liked that idea.

As they continued down the halls, repeatedly branching off from one another like some intricate maze with scant lighting as to not give anybody a paper trail to follow through an electric bill; A few could be afforded and maintained but not enough that it could cause and issue, Cinder’s heels would clack along the greyed-out concrete floor and echo for what seemed liked miles thanks to the abstract silence. Much like her own office, the grounds of their makeshift base had absolutely no personal effects of decoration. It had been hastily constructed, a downgrade from the docks Roman Torchwick had and their own dorm rooms in Beacon, a small punishment that actually suited Cinder’s preferences. Much as it was beneficial to be near their targets and capable of studying their enemy whilst searching for the Fall Maiden, social interaction was not Cinder’s favourite hobby. Those students were beneath her; ants waiting to be crushed. It was draining, not that she’d let anyway know of that. Keeping up the façade of the mysterious and beautiful Mistralli student with pure and proper manners was necessary to avoid suspicion, it did carry the added benefit of hiding her contempt from her allies and subordinates however. 

The two of them walked down the halls until they came into large open area with an opening stretching down the middle of the room, filled with water. Sat on the water’s surface was a submarine, black in colour with the emblem of the White Fang emblazoned on the side. Cinder chuckled at how they would so proudly display the signature of a known terrorist organization without worry for their safety, but she supposed a submarine was not meant to be placed on display for the public to judge. Several boarding strips connected between the doors of the Submarine and the room surrounding it, with dozens of White Fang soldiers carrying different sizes of cargo in the form of weapon and Dust crates from their submersible vehicle. Cinder was adequately impressed with their haul of illegally obtained goods. She stood with her arms crossed, a pleasant smile on her face. At least something had gone well. 

Just as she was marvelling at the success of the White Fang, a final figure walked down the ramp of the Submarine with his arms outstretched. His skin was dark, the vague tanned flesh of someone who had been raised in the land of Vaccuo. His blonde hair was neck length and wavy, but still relatively controlled and well kept. Crimson eyes centred his admittedly handsome features, a proud smile leaning perhaps closer to arrogance adorning his face. A singular scar striped down his right eye and continued to his chin, indicating the scraps and melees he had been fighting not just for survival but for the Faunus species. His arms were toned and muscular, but they didn’t bulge or seem disproportionate to his own height or relatively lithe stature, measuring up only an inch taller than Cinder herself. He wore the regularly commissioned White Fang get-up, but with the sleeves torn at the shoulders, leaving the ripped fabric for all to see. His mask also did not rest upon his face, but hung from a chain on the belt of his uniform. And of course, the tell-tale sign of him being a Faunus was located in the form of blonde-tinted Bear ears atop his head. 

“Cinder! It’s been too long, my Lady…” The man bowed, reaching out to take Cinder’s hands and kissed her knuckles in a chivalrous gesture. From the edge of his gaze, he could see the slightest of scowls descending upon Emerald’s face, before opting to wink at the angered girl. 

Cinder smirked, letting him display his respect before once again crossing her arms loosely “Lucian. I must say whilst it was a pity to lose someone as wildly revered as Adam, your success rates and general demeanour have been a pleasant change of pace.”

“Adam was a good symbol. But just that: A symbol. A change of pace was needed, I’m just glad in the few weeks I’ve been elected to the role I’ve made a success out of it.”

“A much-warranted success, at that.” Cinder replied to his cool and crisp tone of voice.

“You flatter me, my Lady.” Lucian bowed, exaggeratively. His antics were perhaps mocking, or chauvinistic in trying to gain her approval, but his results spoke for themselves. He was excessively successful. A suicide mission to gather much needed materials and high-grade equipment from Atlas military bases should have ended in a gruesome death. Instead, barely any of his men were missing and fewer injured. He was quickly proving to be an important asset. The Faunus reached into his pocket and pulled out a palm-sized micro-chip, too big for a USB port and too small to be a disk. But Cinder knew exactly what was being presented to her, as the new leader of the militant White-Fang held it out to her.

“Are you telling me…?” Cinder’s eyes widened in wonder and excitement, for perhaps the first time on her life. And all Lucian did was laugh and nod in a chipper way.

“Indeed. This is the artificial intelligence that was supposedly used in the testing stages for all Atlesian Knights attack models, as well as the classified P3NNY model that General Ironwood kept on the hush-hush. I heard of your failure to procure the necessary codes for our success in dismantling Vale’s defences. So I thought, heck, why not get us the next best thing? The single smartest and most developed Artificial Intelligence in the world? One that could, in theory, program our own army of mechs and androids? Not to mention that if used correctly, may be able to decrypt Vale’s newly altered defence system for us.” Cinder took the item in shaky hands, unable to rip her eyes from the item being afforded to her. “I like to go the extra mile. Although I will need a copy of the altered code from the source. I suspect you have a target for me…?”

“Oh yes. Oh, yes I do…” Cinder’s pleased smiled curved into a predatory and sinister grin. “One by one, Ozpin. I’ll rip your students apart…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally have another chapter down. Apologies for the somewhat lengthy absence, sickness, time off and College all take a toll on my ability to work on stories. Also video games. But that's not an adequate excuse. Haha.
> 
> So, anyway. Cinder is here! Yay! My personal favourite character. Just cause she's sexy. I'm a weak person, haha. She's evil and in no way can be sympathised with. I toyed with the idea of making her more human, but it just wouldn't sit right having so many morally grey characters or anti-heroes/villains. Maybe for another story where Cinder turns good and joins team RWBY or something, but for now, she's evil and conniving. Muahahahaha. 
> 
> So yeah, a dark chapter but necessary. Team SLVR's actions inadvertently caused some good by rewriting the Vale defence system, since it is not in the hands of Cinder yet. However, their actions also led up to Lucian being crowned the new leader of the White Fang, and he is as you can see, a very powerful and intelligent individual to gain what he has from Atlas. 
> 
> And yes, the P3NNY model is clearly Penny. Thought I'd slide her in there mostly as a passing reference but I do have some intentions for a pay-off with that. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed~


	20. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Weiss discuss the proposal of team SLVR, only to then be sidetracked by their combined physical affections.

Only mere hours after Blake’s initial disappearance and the subsequent search for the Faunus, Yang and Weiss were left alone together in their room. Ruby had opted to stick glue-tight to Blake, and the two of them left to try and quell Blake’s leftover sadness and take her mind off the shocking news Silver had presented her with. However, out of the two of them it appeared as if Ruby was the most effected. She seemed to be lacking energy and was surprisingly soft spoken for perhaps the first time in her life. Yang thought it odd, even more so since her partner apparently failed to pick up on the younger of the two half-sisters apathy and melancholy. Yang had considered broaching the topic, but was aware with perhaps such a fresh wound being cast upon Ruby, no matter the cause of which, it would only be detrimental to her intentions if she were to act so hastily much as her sisterly instincts screamed for her to do so. 

“You’re being sarcastic, right?” Yang asked with her eyebrow quirked quizzically, arms crossed over her chest whilst she had been in the midst of pacing back and forth, only stopping to look over her side to her girlfriend and sole confidant in team RWBY’s dorm; Weiss Schnee. 

Weiss was brushing her hair, attending to the pristine snow-white tresses with her platinum shaded comb, sat atop a stool in front of her vanity mirror. The question confused her somewhat, genuinely considering if Yang was being serious or not.

“I don’t think so. You know I only ever resort to sarcasm for mockery. I’m not the type to play jokes on others.”

“What about the ‘Ice Water’ you concussed Ruby with that one time?” Yang responded, her smile peeking out from behind the frustration that had been previously dogging her as she recalled Weiss’ excessive level of vengeance on Yang’s own younger sister. Perhaps the injury itself wasn’t all that funny, but Weiss’ own concept of proportionality when it came to revenge seemed so tipped towards “Any means necessary” she couldn’t help but indulge herself in the absurd levels of hilarity.

“Oh hush. That was simply to avenge my honour. Besides, we all had a good laugh, didn’t we? Furthermore, it was one time.” 

“I think you may need to revaluate what you consider an acceptable prank.”

“Noted.” Weiss sad, finally resting her comb down once she was finished with her hair, neglecting to tie it back so she could properly address Yang, swivelling on her stool to turn to the taller huntress. The blonde was already so much taller than her that standing up with be useless in any attempts to reduce the disparity between them, and as much it pained Weiss to admit her own miniscule stature to her towering partner (perhaps as excessive as that description was) she was growing at least somewhat comfortable with allowing Yang the privilege of presiding over her. Of course, it came with its own benefits. Notably in the form that Weiss could oh so delicately peer up at Yang’s cleavage from her lower vantage point with the excuse of looking up towards Yang’s eyes. “Now, what are you accusing me of being sarcastic about?” 

“You know, going out with team SLVR?” Yang seemed to spit the name of their newest contemporaries, although it contained less venom then what was regularly attributed towards them. Instead she seemed mistrustful. Caught in two minds. 

“Oh.” Weiss’ head leant back in realisation and remembrance of the direction of their conversation. Truth be told, Weiss had only really been paying half-attention since Yang had been talking in earnest. She felt slightly guilty, but Yang was beating a dead horse at this point. “No, I was being serious.” Weiss shrugged nonchalantly. Yang went to protest, mouth hanging open in preparation to voice her displeasure but Weiss was an expert in verbal jousting. As much as she resented her Father; he had been an excellent sparring partner in heated debates and arguments. So long as Weiss was not caught wrong-footed or off guard, she could disarm most ideas and win all debates. “I appreciate the scepticism you’ve developed, Yang. It’s a nice change from Ruby’s ever trustful nature. But it’s only Silver who tried to kill you. And to be fair, that was a misunderstanding that he seems to have taken full responsibility for.”

“And I appreciate the outgoing and warm side of you you’ve developed…” Weiss flicked her long, now flowing, hair in a gesture of minor arrogance and flashed Yang a smile. “But I’m just supposed to play nice? Forget everything and be all buddy-buddy with those guys?” 

Weiss shrugged back at her lover, twirling her finger around a loose strand of hair “Viridian seems nice enough. If you ignore the mood swings. Linen is…rather isolated but seems polite and I think you and Red could get along.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yang asked indignantly, placing her hands on her hips and Weiss blushed lightly, eyes trained on the exposed section of Yang’s breasts. Comfort or not, Weiss’ vocabulary labelled it as potentially scandalous attire. 

“Nothing my dear.” Weiss chuckled quietly to herself and Yang huffed indignantly. “Listen, I think Silver said it to you best: They’ve lived hard lives. Done things that even some novels and media don’t dare tread in the same direction of. But they’re here now, and they want to make amends. Isn’t that why Blake came here? Isn’t that why I came here? Blake to make up for the crimes she committed and for me to make up for my own selfishness and to restore my family’s name and honour? Absolution of one’s crimes cannot be afforded just to the people we care about. They want a second chance to make things right. Don’t let the bruises and bloodied noses cloud your judgement, Yang. You’re a good person.” Weiss reached over and squeezed her lover’s right hand, running her fingers over it and gently massaging the surprisingly soft and delicate features of the larger pair of hands to her own. 

Finally, Weiss stood up to her full height and did her best to mentally block the several inches Yang still had over her before linking her hands behind Yang’s neck, leaning in to softly kiss her lips.  
“Besides, if you do give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe I’ll give you a reward…” Weiss lips teased the rim of Yang’s ear, hot breath lingering on the blonde brawler’s skin. Weiss could feel the shiver passing down Yang’s body, along with the tension and resistance in her muscles not to throw the Heiress down right then and there. 

Weiss had been practicing on her flirting, the internet had some surprisingly helpful tips when it came to sharing intimate moments with a romantic partner. At first, she had considered corny and cheesy technique that would only work on your typically average schoolgirl. Then again, as much as Yang deviated from the norm in many respects, she was a teenage girl with the same ticks and impulses as everyone else her age. 

“You’re a piece of work, Schnee, you know that?” Yang leaned in, locking lips with Weiss. For a few brief seconds, they indulged in their solitude and passions. Yang leaned in, pushing Weiss back with her larger chest and planting both hands on the edge of the desk at Weiss’ back to completely surround her and encapsulate her. 

Weiss leaned back, edge of her desk pressing uncomfortably against her, but it hardly concerned the smaller girl. Feeling her own lips being smothered and massaged by Yang’s, the sensation of their tongues wrestling and sliding along one-another was a unique pleasure that made Weiss feel like she was floating on air. The entire world could completely have disappeared and it wouldn’t have mattered. Sharing their few and far between moments of intimacy like this was something she readily anticipated impatiently. 

“T-That certainly escalated quickly…” Weiss mused as they continued their kiss.

“What can I say? Who wouldn’t want to kiss you every chance they get?” Yang smirked, an action mirrored by Weiss but with a notable flush adorning her face.

“As long as you don’t make a stupid pun, Xiao Long, I don’t have any complaints.”

“Welllllll…” Yang teased and Weiss puffed out her cheeks, a remarkably childlike and immature reaction better fitted to Ruby. However, it didn’t mean it wasn’t both adorable to witness and the desired reaction Yang was attempting to achieve. “Got it. Just you, me, and an empty room…”

Weiss considered it was perhaps a little selfish to rob everyone else of Yang just to treat herself to these fleeting moments of romance, but she couldn’t help it. Yang was experienced in these acts, the way she moved and controlled their flow was expertly handled. With barely ten seconds passed, Weiss felt her breath completely robbed and her chest burnt for oxygen. But she didn’t care. It could take a back seat in the list of her priorities. She shot her hands up to gently play and fumble around with Yang’s hair, making sure not to push the boundaries of what Yang considered acceptable levels of play given how sensitive Yang could be when it came to touching her blonde mane. Behind her she could feel Yang’s finger strain slightly against the pristine white wood of Weiss’ vanity. They snaked around her back and continued to push Weiss down further at first using her chest, but then pulling at the material of her jacket so Weiss was laying flush against the desk, Yang over her like some predatory animal; licking her lips at the prey she had beneath her. Her skin glistened like virginial, pristine and pure snow, untainted by anybody’s touch except for Yang’s own. She descended down, kneading her powerful hands over Weiss’ chest, teeth and tongue nibbling and tasting every inch of skin she could get her hands on. Weiss’ skin had the faintest taste of her perfume alongside the already sweat taste that naturally permeated from it. 

“Y-Yang…” Weiss whimpered between their kisses, only stopping momentarily between each small peck they delivered back and forth to formulate some kind of coherent response. “I love you…”

“I know, my Weissicle.” Yang smiled upon hearing the mildly aggrieved huff from Weiss at the nickname that was sticking like a tongue to a cold lamppost from those old cartoons Yang would watch alongside Ruby. “I love you too.”

Their fires slowly became more and more enkindled, every glancing moment of eye contact brought about the combination of lust and shame that Weiss couldn’t help but feel conflicted over. But the lust always overcame, and her passion soon replaced any negative thought or consideration to halt their activity. Yang was strong and powerful, Weiss enjoyed playfully trying to force her off and back, only to find Yang redouble her efforts. In all honesty, it was more out of her selfish want to be even closer enveloped in Yang’s embrace, to inhale the intoxicating fumes of Yang’s scent and taste her honeyed skin. She often couldn’t express her deepest wishes to Yang from years of conditioning on how one should act and what would should say in polite conversation as well as her Father affording no time for the education on one’s sexual preferences. It was a taboo subject, and so even now Weiss couldn’t help but second guess herself. Yang however, was sharper and more perceptible than most gave her credit for. She was adept at gauging just what Weiss wanted, and knew if she indulged Weiss enough as well as carefully leading her down the path to adulthood slowly, then Weiss would eventually become comfortable enough to broach the subjects and directly inform Yang of just what she wanted. For now though, it was best to be slow and steady. 

Weiss panted hard after finally not having the pleasure of French-kissing Yang to distract her from just how much a necessity breathing was to the human condition. Her small and elegant chest rose in conjunction with her flat stomach. Yang couldn’t help but take a brief moment simply to absorb the architecture of the beautiful sculpture that was Weiss Schnee. Her body was by all accounts, petite and sharp. From her cheekbones to her hips, with the subtlest of curvatures that was typically associated with beauty thanks to her years of dancing and singing along with all the exercise that accounted for. She had a thin yet strong physique far more durable than one would have expected of such a small body. Her torso was beautiful, well defined with beautiful skin that shone like pale moonlight. Her hips were also flexible and soft with a layer of muscle that when pressed on resisted enough to Yang’s touch that it reminded her just how little fat Weiss’ body contained and how well she looked after herself. As a Schnee Weiss’ health and presentation was so important it had become a staple of her diet and lifestyle even if she should be bulking up slightly for the life of a Huntress. Yang didn’t mind however, Weiss’ body was petite and proportioned like a Ballerina, beautiful and athletic and yet so delicate and beautifully sculpted she only ever let her fingertips glide over Weiss in fear of breaking her. 

“Hey…” Yang whispered, leaning down to catch Weiss’ lips and help resurrect her consciousness with the sensation of her lips. Yang routinely tapped her fingers, drumming then again and again, on Weiss’ stomach over the material of her dress as she awaited an answer.

“Y-Yes?” Weiss asked, her voice a mixture of husky from desire, tired from the lack of breath and nervous at the imposing figure of Yang atop of her. No. She wasn’t even on top of her. She was stood over her. They weren’t even on equal ground, Yang presided over Weiss like she owned her. Like Weiss was just a lowly object to be used and toyed with. Weiss knew better than that to assume in anyway Yang would ever consider abusing her like that, but the thought and the imagery was a turn on.

“Can I rock your world?” Yang smiled, teasingly, trying to get Weiss to laugh at how absurd the wording of her request was. Weiss swatted at Yang’s shoulder, trying to keep her chuckle in the back of her throat. 

“You’re a jerk.” Weiss smiled as Yang pressed her knee against Weiss’ legs, pushing the gateway to her modesty open, however her combat skirt proved to adequately cover everything no matter how wide Weiss’ legs went. 

“Yeah, well, you’re the idiot that decided to date a jerk.” Yang nibbled and kissed and Weiss’ neck, leaving wet traces of her libs behind wherever she pressed them too as she progressively moved towards Weiss’ collar. 

“M-M-Mmm…I-I-I’m h-happy to admit I’m a big and happy idiot then…” Weiss stammered as Yang began to pull at the hem of her dress so she could gain better access to Weiss’ collar and in order to kiss and nibble at one of Weiss’ most surprisingly sensitive areas. Her leg involuntarily kicked in a spasm at the reaction to Weiss’ teeth traced along the bone poking out. Her fingers shook from the pleasant sensation of Yang moving about her entire body teasing and attending with such deft pace she couldn’t begin to anticipate where her lover’s touch would come from. She managed to compose herself, shoving the intoxicating touch of Yang to one side momentarily enough to cup both sides of Yang’s cheeks and dragged the blonde back up to kiss her this time, taking control and swirling their tongues in a passionate and messy exchange, no semblance of chasteness remaining in the slightest. Weiss could hear the initial whimper and surprised moan of Yang, clearly not expecting Weiss to pull Yang up her dishevelled dress and jacket to latch onto the taller girl’s lips so determinedly. Yang sighed into the motion, getting comfortable and placing her hands either side of Weiss’ hips, stroking them in a carefree gesture for Weiss to do as she wanted, simply enjoying their loving embrace and chance to physically expel the pent-up lust they had been burying for so long. 

Yang was ready to properly descend into further debaucheries and lecherous acts with Weiss, when the rasping of knuckles on the wooden door of their dorm room snapped Yang to attention in direction of the door, disrupting the increasingly sordid affair she and Weiss had been agonisingly waiting weeks for. Even Weiss, the generally more composed and sophisticated of the two, couldn’t help but moan in despair and vexation at the disruption. 

Yang sighed, taking the time to kiss Weiss once more, in a simple effort to placate her in whatever means she could achieve.

“Sorry babe, be a little more patient?” Yang smiled nervously, her own smile betraying herself as she clearly did not believe the request would be adhered to or enjoyed. 

“I’ve had the patience of a damn saint already…” Weiss blushed, pushing up onto her elbows, as she looked away and chewed on the inside of her mouth. She exhaled defeatedly and waved for Yang to get the door. “Go. I can be a horny teenager another time.” She said before sorting out her skirt and trying to regain some semblance of an unruffled and unsullied dress.

Guilt burnt in Yang’s chest, neither of them had the chance to relieve themselves effectively of their libido in weeks. With the constant fighting with team SLVR, Raven and Yang’s own hospitalisation along with her own recovery their intimate activities had been non-existent. She didn’t felt all that good about depriving Weiss of the first chance they had in all of that time. But still, it’s not like they could just wait for the person at their door to leave. For one it would be rude, secondly it could be important. In fact, the second factor was almost certain at this point. Dust knows Yang’s life only ever seemed to entail and be centred around history defining events. One day she just wanted to take Weiss out for dinner. One day would be nice. One day to themselves. Weiss deserved to be treated importantly, like a princess, not someone who got strung about and then abandoned without release or a pay-off of some form or another. 

With that in mind, Yang opened their door to find one of their newest “friends” awaiting them in the form of Viridian Aurora, looking down at one un-gloved hand, with the other holding the removed article of clothing, with the palm angled up for her to look at. Her eyes slowly trailed along her palm, nose scrunching up either at confusion of perhaps annoyance at whatever was on her hand, until she looked up once to see Yang; then back down; and then finally back up at Yang with wide eyes.

“Oh!” Viridian said bemusedly. “You’re here!” She said equally astounded.

“Uhh…” Yang searched for the correct response to that, she hadn’t particularly anticipated such a statement of the obvious “Yeah? We live here…” 

Viridian seemed confused by the statement, leaning in to examine Yang, scratching her chin and nodded in response. “Yep! You do!” She said, nodding and for some reason apparently feeling vindicated for some reason. Her eyes widened again and she looked back down to her hand “Oh! Umm…D-Dear Sir or Madam…wait…” Viridian scratched her head in confusion at whatever was written. Meanwhile, Yang and Weiss shared a worried and ever-so-slightly confused glance at one another. They knew from team SLVR that Viridian wasn’t the best at social interaction and she suffered from mental disabilities and illnesses, but even so they hadn’t expected her to be so hectic and disorderly. 

“Viri! That was written for JNPR! Since they have guys and girls, RWBY just have girls, just eliminate all the male pronouns!” Linen’s voice called from down the hall, drawing Viridian’s attention away from her own hand, and she nodded in comprehension.

“Umm…D-Dear Madam…w-we at team SLVR c-cor…cord…ially? Cordially! We cordially invite you to a night of…e-ex…umm…” Viridian fumbled over her words, having a hard time grasping what was written on it. 

“Are…you okay?” Weiss asked tentatively, trying to sound as sympathetic and compassionate as possible.

Viridian blushed nervously but managed a small nod “Yeah I just…can’t read…”

“You’re illiterate?” Weiss asked, reiterating Viridian’s point.

“If that means I can’t read: Yes.” Viridian admitted. “Well, that’s not totally true. Linen taught me all the letters and their phonetics, so I can sound easy words out.” Viridian turned her palm around for them to see black ink scrawled across in script to follow for asking something of both Yang and Weiss. “I never really needed to know how to read, and I didn’t care to. I existed solely to kill and destroy, and I really liked it. Now I’ve got all this homework and supplementary classes to help me learn…!” Viridian groaned petulantly “It sucks so much…”

“It’s…smudged.” Yang pointed out and Viridian looked back at the hand she had been showing them during her little rant.

“Oh. Sorry, I’ve been sweating, nervousness. I’m not good with human interactions, I’d much rather be stabbing you…” Viridian looked abhorred by her own admittance and covered her mouth “I. Am. So. Sorry!” she apologised “It’s the voices in my head…oh Dust that sounded so weird, didn’t it? I-I have psychological problems, Professor Ozpin gave my medication that’s helping but some stuff still slips out…I’m such a train wreck…” 

In the midst of Viridian’s rambling, Linen had walked over to the girl and softly patted her on the shoulders.

“Want me to take over?” He asked, the smallest of smiles creeping out from the corner of his mouth indicated he was enjoying Viridian’s ensuing collapse that Weiss couldn’t decide if she thought was mean, or indicative of their closeness. The optimist inside her chose the latter. 

“So much…” She begged. 

Linen held up his hands to Yang and Weiss apologetically “Sorry about that. We thought it might be a good idea to get Viridian talking to people and actually getting used to being a regular member of society who doesn’t use the art of killing as a hobby.”

Weiss and Yang shared another confused look with each-other. “So…why are you two here? Because we were…doing things.” Yang euphemised, her eyebrows bounding upwards in a way Weiss could best describe as mortifying. 

“Ah…crap. Sorry.” Linen rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s fine, honestly.” Weiss said, although her flushed cheeks told another tale. “You couldn’t have known. But I have to stress what me and Yang have is strictly private." Weiss' expression hardened somewhat.

"Yeah, I know. You're a Schnee, I doubt being a Lesbian is something your Father approves of when thinking about the "family lineage" or whatever." Linen mocked. "Your secrets safe with us, right Viridian?" in response to Linen's prompt, the awkward Maiden nodded enthusiastically.

"We appreciate that." Weiss sighed, looking somewhat relieved. "So, why are you here?”

“Okay, the thing is, Silver doesn’t like tension. Like, he really doesn’t like it. Put him in a movie theatre with one of those tense horror flicks? Boom! Guy goes nuts. It’s kinda why we’re so effective as a time, we don’t sit on our laurels so long as there is a problem to be solved. Unresolved tension can detonate, badly. I’m exaggerating, but he doesn’t want our two teams being at odds in the slightest. So, naturally, he thought sending his adorable girlfriend to ask as a surrogate for himself might do some good. Can’t fault the idea, can fault giving her a script she can’t read from though.” Yang snorted in laughter and even Viridian found a small chuckle in her lover’s failure to consider that particular problem. “I’m exaggerating how bad he is though, I’m his best friend so of course I have to give him a hard time whether he’s here or not.”

“Where is Silver?” Weiss asked.

“He and Red are out on the town right now. Doing reconnaissance. We like to have extensive knowledge of our surroundings. But that’s not the point, we wanted to ask again if you’ve consider our offer? Team JNPR have agreed to go, we’d thought you’d be more comfortable with friends there.” Linen finished his explanation, and awaited the response of the two members of team RWBY stood in their doorway.

Weiss looked up to Yang, moving her hand to squeeze her lover’s and offered a sincere smile “Remember what I said? You’re a good person, Yang.”

Yang sighed and nodded “What…time would you like us for?” Yang gave in. Weiss was right. And as intrusive as Viridian had been to their romantic exploits, she tackled an aspect of her life she had never particularly engaged in before in the form of social interaction. As minor as that would seem to most, this was something almost entirely new to the girl outside her team; her family. It was an attempt at a new life, an attempt to become something better. Yang could have all the reservations she wanted, but did that mean when someone came to her asking for help, should she just bat them aside and deny them help? No. Yang was a Huntress, and that meant helping anyone and everyone who asked for it. Team SLVR seemed genuinely nice, eccentric and weird, but nice. 

“This Friday. 7PM. Sound like a plan?” Linen asked, his smiled becoming more pronounced and Viridian was giddily bouncing on her feet, barely containing her excitement. 

“What venue would we be attending? Dinner? Dancing?” Weiss inquired. 

“A nightclub. It was Red’s idea. She complains about Silver’s drinking habits, but whenever a chance presents itself she likes to obliterate herself and dance any troubles away. She thought it’d be a nice setting to relax, have a few drinks to take the edge off and get to each-other a little. We haven’t really had the chance yet, we barely know one-another.”

“That’s true, actually. I think proper introductions are in order.” Weiss smiled and extended her hand “Weiss Schnee, an honour.” Linen took her hand and shook it once.

“Linen Blanc. I’m the brains of our little group, computer geek extraordinaire. I deal with tech and hacking. Not much of a fighter, but if you ever want someone on your team when playing Trivial Pursuit: I’m your guy.” He bragged and Weiss seemed to take a keen interest in the statement.

“Oh? I can tell you I’ve been given the highest quality upbringing and education money can buy. I have retention techniques that mean I don’t forget the slightest detail taught to me. It’s why I ace all my classes. I bet I could beat you any day at Trivial Pursuit!” Weiss crossed her arms over her chest, adorning a pompous and proud arrogance about herself.

“Here we go…” Yang chuckled quietly, rolling her eyes as she could feel that strong, confident aura that always adorned Weiss when she became full of herself and her upbringing. 

“Oooh! The Princess is pretty full of herself!” Linen laughed. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? Something’s you can only learn by being on the street. Trust me, I’d wipe the floor with you.”

“You’re on, Blanc!” They shared the same arrogant smile, both fully believing in their assured victory before their battle had even begun.

“Guess I can forget about our alone time, huh?” Yang whispered to herself, but still found the haughty persona of Weiss’ to be in its own way, cute. So, long as it was directed at her, it could be fun to watch. And she imagined the sparring and jabs traded between herself and Linen would be a battle for the ages.

Weiss’ expression transitioned into a guilty variant, and bit her lip in thought as she looked back to Yang. “Oh…sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

Yang waved off the concern quickly, and pulled Weiss flush against her with an arm snaking dangerously low around the back of the heiress. “Hey, don’t go getting all down in the dumps. Like you said, we can be horny teenagers any time. But, we should always make time for friends, don’t you think?” Weiss blushed, nodding as she nuzzled into the crook of Yang’s neck, the warmth the blonde provided helped to calm her growing nerves at upsetting her. Weiss was sensitive with Yang, always concerned she would say the wrong thing and tick Yang off. Weiss could be insensitive and Yang had a short temper, it only made sense to treat their relationship like a minefield. But Weiss knew Yang was more mature and grounded then she let on, and she treated Weiss differently to others. She loved her, and she wouldn’t let Weiss saying something dumb ruin what they had. 

“You’re the best…” Weiss complimented, but as soon as she let it register with Yang she pressed the tap of her razor-sharp fingers straight at the centre of Yang’s chest “Don’t tell anyone I’m this soft. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

Yang simply laughed “Sure thing, Princess.” Yang grinned widely and allowed for Weiss to step away “Now show the newbie up, our whole team has a reputation to maintain.” Yang winked.

As Weiss turned back to Linen, the two of them continued their self-aggrandisement, and Viridian leaned in towards Yang “Umm…Sorry about the whole “Break your face” thing…” Viridian apologised. “M-My name’s Viridian, in case you didn’t catch it…”

“Nah. Don’t worry. Water under the bridge.” Yang shrugged. “Yang Xiao Long.” She extended her hand, and Viridian nervously took it, keeping her eyes trained on Yang for the subtlest of movements to indicate it was a trap.

“Thanks. Umm…thank you for forgiving my boyfriend.” Viridian smiled sweetly. 

“I don’t know if forgive is the best word, but everybody deserves a second chance.” Yang replied.

“I know he can ruthless, and I’m not really any different, but he means well. I want to be like him so much. He’s my inspiration for living. He’s a good person, and I’ll follow him to the ends of the Earth no matter what. Good or bad. You know what it’s like to be with someone who you love so much, it doesn’t matter what they do, because you want to be with them anyway?”

Yang stole a glance over to Weiss, allowing her eyes to linger on her partner for a few seconds as she continued to debate her our attributes alongside a person who finally matched her in height. They shared and laughed, but no matter what Yang couldn’t stop smiling. Because it was Weiss. Her Weiss and nobody else’s. The person she had entrusted her heart to. The person whom despite all the angst and danger over having a secret relationship with, still chose to take that risk with her. The person she loved, Weiss Schnee.

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’re talking about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for reading the latest update to the story.
> 
> So, a little bit of fluff and saucy action between Yang and Weiss. I feel kinda bad for robbing Weiss of being physically intimate with Yang, but I'm a capricious deity of this universe. 
> 
> Weiss and Linen's competitive streak kind of came out of the blue. I just considered from how I've written Linen so far is he's slightly arrogant about his intelligence and realises how it compensates for his lack of physical prowess. He kind of parallels Weiss in that way, neither of them being physcially imposing (though Weiss can make up for that with sword-stance and form as well as her semblance) and both contain a high-degree of self-confidence in their abilities and intelligence. Seemed natural they'd be playfully competitive. 
> 
> Viridian's illiteracy was always a plot point, I just never found a place to properly weave it into the story. She was raised in the middle of inhospitable Mistal and then Vaccuo, a region which from the World Of Remnant videos doesn't strike me as being too child friendly or offer a great deal of education. Maybe it does since Sun and his team seem somewhat educated, but I can see some going without education at the least. Basically it's just another reminder there are people who go by the World Of Remnant without people taking notice or caring about them. They're the quintessential "Shadow" characters from the first season of RWBY that would just walk around without details basically. Unimportant and unloved, not even being taught the basics of human education.


	21. Paint the Town Red and Black- Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RWBY, SLVR and JNPR head out for the night and meat some old frienimies.

“Let’s get fucking wasted!” Red punched a hand into the air, swaying her hips as she danced to some imaginary and almost certainly provocative music from the motions she was making outside of the nightclub with the combined forces of SLVR, RWBY and JNPR all behind her. “Ugh! I’ve needed some stress release from all the school crap. Seriously, being pinned down and trapped in a foxhole with Wolfy over there and his trademark quips are preferable to homework!” Red complained, rolling her shoulders to relieve herself of the pent-up stress she had accumulated. The regularity of external assignments as well as the strict expectation of adhering to a schedule was not the Fox-Faunus’ idea of a good time. She was a free spirit; not a shackled slave of any system. Red enjoyed going with the flow, taking where life led her. To her, being a part of Team SLVR best emphasised that aspect of her life. It was one of the best parts of being a member of a team, even one with a hierarchy. They travelled across the world, obeyed no system or code or creed but their own ethics they collectively agreed upon. 

By no means did that mean she hated the idea of settling down. She always entertained the notion, swatting it around inside her head, considering what it would be like to be normal. Have a house, cook food in front of an oven, sit in front of a Television, go on family walks, maybe even get a job or have children one day. But she always eventually quashed the idea, Red couldn’t commit to that. She didn’t have the mental fortitude or patience to stick to a single way of life with such a mundane agenda. However, the life of a Huntsmen proved to be the perfect compromise, of sorts anyway. 

There was a romanticism surrounding the heroic nature of Huntsmen and Huntresses, excitement and danger prowled around every corner and avenue of their very existence. It could pay and support a familial life, and yet it could afford Red the chance to spread her wings, run wild and not feel completely tied down. It was liberating enough she didn’t feel like she would be forcing herself to betray her own principles, but grounding enough she thought it could help mature her a degree. Red was by no means oblivious to her own childishness, the promiscuity was a result of boredom, but it was also indicative of her immaturity. Just like a child, Red would grow weary of her “toys” and move onto something new before long. Not having a real childhood, being forced to fight and claw for mere survival was always going to be damaging. For Silver, it made him overly focused on an idealistic creed of justice. For Viridian, it tore her mind asunder and left her a fragile serial killer; the only thing keeping her teetering on the edge of mass murder instead of descending into it was those few close bonds she had formed and her own co-dependent relationship with Silver. And Red? She felt numb. No man’s touch felt like it could satisfy, no amount of indulging in carnal wants ever felt enough. It always felt good, just never enough. 

Except for Linen. He was different. He was shorter than her, weaker than her, slower than her, and far more likely to overthink things. Half his interests were about science and historical architecture that seemed so innocuous and drab that she couldn’t begin to understand why he felt such an inclination or draw to them. But despite that, they shared a connection. Something just seemed to click the moment they met, his passion and dedication towards something halfway normal was a little inspiring to Red. Although what mattered most is he cared. He cared not to judge. Most may think of him a weak man to allow his lover to jump from guy to guy, over and over. All would assume it was dysfunctional. But he allowed her, because he understood her. They didn’t live the lives they had and then came out with a normal perspective on what they considered a normal relationship. They all had their own demons and dealt with them in the way they chose to. Regardless of his understanding, even if he did feel some jealousy he would always take her back in his arms and speak so compassionately and caringly to her. It soothed her soul, and she thanked God for blessing her with him.

But now wasn’t the time for overthinking her love of Linen, or her mess of a life or what direction it could still take. Her future was wide open, her prospects were any and all as of the moment. And that was relieving. 

All Red needed right now was instant gratification in the form of an alcoholic beverage, some intense club music and electronica to dance until her legs gave out and maybe some poor, unassuming soul to fuck her brains out for the night. Nothing more, nothing less. Thinking could come later. Much later. Specifically, after the hangover.

“You got a problem with my sense of humour, Red?” Silver quirked an eyebrow and smiled playfully, before being returned with Red sticking her tongue out at him.

“The relationship between your sense of humour and me is similar to that of Water and Oil; they don’t mix well.” Silver just rolled his eyes at his teammate, deciding the back and forth was probably not worth it especially since it done light-heartedly. 

“Red’s got a point though, Oobleck’s essays are gruelling…” Jaune complained.

“Well, if somebody spent more time studying then that wouldn’t be so much of an issue.” Weiss retorted, none too kindly at Jaune’s sub-par grades in any classes that required knowledge, poise, comprehensive and articulate usage of the English language or the ability think for one’s self. 

“That’s not my fault!” Jaune said “Somebody has been distracting me with…stuff…” he blushed, which, if Weiss had been straight at all, would probably be something she would have considered cute. Certainly, by Pyrrha’s own reaction, mirroring Jaune’s, she definitely did.

“Guilty as charged. I’m sorry!” Pyrrha tacked on her trademark apology with its whimsically lyrical tune, although it was clear she was in no way apologetic. Who could blame her? She was in the honeymoon period with the one person she had been passive-aggressively chasing for months. 

“Uh-huh…” Jaune said, not buying the falsehood that was Pyrrha’s apology for one second.

The combinations of Teams RWBY, SLVR and JNPR were all dressed in their own unique attire: Red was wearing a tight red dress that was practically bare at the back, tied around her neck with enough skin around her own cleavage on display. The skirt was designed into a pleated style, the ensemble being finished with a pair of three-inch crimson heels. 

Viridian was still sporting her newest outfit since her team’s arrival at Beacon, only because she lacked a sense of fashion. Clothes had little value or meaning to her, and usually she paid little attention to what was currently adorning her body. Linen was practically identical to his teammate, dressed in his simple jeans, black shirt, and white hoodie on top of all of that. His clothing choices or lack thereof for such an occasion derived from the fact he had a lethargic attitude towards searching for new clothing to that was intended to improve his appearance. He was content to dress comfortably and wear things that identified him as himself and nothing more, regardless of how mundane and uncharacterised as those items might have been. 

Yang was dressed in her tan-leather brown motorcycle jacket and orange crop top underneath, fittingly followed by her grey leather motorcycle leggings that matched her jacket in design along with white trainers. As for her girlfriend, Weiss was dressed in her white-dress and combat skirt combination as she always would but with her jacket removed to emphasise the femininity and elegance it truly contained. It left plenty of the back exposed, much like Red, although certainly in a less scandalous way with Yang sticking unapologetically close to Weiss, but not laying a hand on the heiress to preserve the illusion they weren’t a couple to the prying eye.

Ruby and Blake were similarly garbed in the very outfits they had appeared to the Beacon Prom in, recycling their dressed for the night on the town mostly because they lacked the funds individually and collectively to splurge like Weiss could have done, and neither of them were willing to accept the charity she had offered as a point of pride. Blake was in the midst of hiding her own amused chuckling at Ruby’s continued inability to stay coordinated in a pair of heels, simultaneously bemoaning Weiss’ own adept skill at fighting in them. 

Of course, that was normal for Ruby. However, that had proven to be the exception to Ruby’s personality the last few days rather than the rule. It wasn’t as if Blake’s team leader was removed from the occasional tantrum or sequence of regular pouting; she was the youngest member of the team after all. There was a lot of the world she was still ignorant too and naïve of, simple concepts that floated her by because she lacked proper education on such matters or had yet to experience them. Blake empathised with her friend’s disappointment at being pushed to one side whilst others refuse to consider the worth you have or the contributions you could make, that was a perfect summation of Faunus’ lives. Ruby had good reasons, especially as a leader and motivator of a team with incredibly high potential Huntresses, for being frustrated at being ignored. 

The problem was, Blake knew being ignored or treated like an uninformed child wasn’t the reason Ruby was being anti-social. Actually, more anti-social was a more accurate term for how Ruby was acting. The Brunette could be a poor conversationalist at time, not that Blake was one to speak, and extremely shy too, but as of late she was muttering under breath, going to bed early, and even refusing to eat as much as she had previously wolfed down without consideration for the effects all those treats could have on her figure. It was odd, disconcerting even. Blake recalled how she experienced similar symptoms when she was obsessed and paranoid with the White Fang. Blake felt perennially guilty about her inability to help Ruby, but Yang had expressed repeatedly about how it was best for Ruby to come to them for help. For one, Ruby could be surprisingly stubborn, mostly as a result of how much of a child she both was and could be. Regardless, any attempt to pry into her issues could result in the Brunette in doubling down on how isolated she acted by pushing anyone away who tried to get close. 

Although by no means did that mean Blake would simply surrender, being around the Xiao Long-Rose sisters had the unintended but not unwelcome effect of making Blake far more determined and stubborn herself. She had made sure to stick close to Ruby, offering her a shoulder to lean on both figuratively and literally, the latter of which was an offer the younger girl seemed all too happy to accept. Her attitude became gloomier and far more despondent with Blake around, but the Faunus assumed that was more a result of company at all than Blake herself. She was happy to be able to comfort whatever was eating at Ruby in whatever way she could, but it did hurt knowing she had no idea what was making Ruby acting so gloomy, she prayed that Ruby would confide in her, but there seemed no evidence to suggest the smaller girl had any intention of doing so. 

Yang chewed the inside of her mouth, shifting her weight from side to side, head tilted up towards the sign of the nightclub the twelve of them were stood in front of. 

“Yang?” Weiss quirked an eyebrow curiously, trying to get her lover’s attention but to no avail. “Yang!” Weiss tried again, but the blonde was lost in her own world. It didn’t happen often, and Yang wasn’t so bad she could be diagnosed with any attention disorder, but when she was in a deep thought the blonde could expertly tune out the world around her. 

“What’s wrong with her? Spotted another short rich girl?” Silver joked, earning him the ire of Weiss’ icy stare. He held up his hands defensively “A joke! It was a joke.” There was a semblance of an apology, although his smirk signalled Silver was still proud of himself. 

“…Oh.” Blake said, upon realising what Yang was staring at. Above them in fluorescent neon coloured letters, woven and joined in what was perhaps excessively artistic calligraphy, was a sign that read “Shade and Shiv”. 

“What? Don’t tell me I went to all the trouble of making reservations and twisting the arms of people I have business relationships with just for you to tell me it’s not to your tastes…” Silver groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.

“Wait, you know the guy who runs this place?” Yang recovered from her reverie, turning her head to Silver imploringly.

Silver shrugged nonchalantly “For business purposes, yeah. Guy who runs it has some shady racketeering and runs a small-time gang. Not exactly the most ethical source to be paying for information, but in our previous line of work ethics took a backseat to results.”

A shadow of a smile ghosted along Yang’s lips, beginning to mirror an image closer associated with Viridian than what everyone would have thought Yang capable of.

“Yang? Should I be aware of something I’m not?” Silver asked, eyes darting back and forth apprehensively as Yang walked onwards with both hands on her hips, and a smug look on her face.

“I think we’d all like to be clued in; Blake?” Weiss added as the remainder of the group looked over to the Cat-Faunus. 

“Well,” Blake rubbed nervously at the back of her neck “Ruby might have a better idea than me…” Ruby looked perplexed by Blake’s redirection of who was to deliver the explanation, pointing to herself in a bewildered manner.

“Me? I don’t have any idea what’s going through Yang’s head!” Ruby waved her hands defensively, before looking back up to the neon sign one more time, the distant memories finally clicking into place from the depths of her mind. “Oh! This was that Nightclub Yang shot up!” Ruby exclaimed gleefully, happy more at remembering what was thought to be the forgotten imagery of her sister leaping through a window, trails of fire and explosions shooting out alongside her.

“WHAT?!” Silver screamed, stunned beyond belief. 

Yang practically kicked the doors down with the amount of force she forced them apart, the metal frames swinging violently inwards.

“Guess who’s back?!”

 

The following few minutes was a combination of a misty night’s drive combined with that of a city-shifting Earthquake and house-uprooting tornado all mixed into a plethora of chaos. Grown men and women screamed like children; most bolting for the doors amid the flashing bright lights of the dance floor illuminating the shapes and forms of every object of the entire club intermittently as they flared in different sequences with some faster and lasting longer than others.

The music of the club screeched to a halt, the iconic stereotype of the DJ’s record stopping abruptly almost instantaneously with Yang’s introduction. Men dressed in black and red suits, most likely the security of the establishment from all evidence, pulled out their SMG’s and machetes which matched the colour scheme of their own ensemble quite fashionably in such a way that Weiss considered Coco Adel of Team CFVY would appreciate. 

The securities weaponry was pushed right up to Yang’s face, laser and iron-sights trained over Yang as she stood there with arms comically outstretched in a remarkably casual manner that Weiss naturally considered both impressive as well as downright baffling. Yang’s self-confidence and ability to throw caution to the wind even to the obvious detrimental effects of her health could reach suicidal levels, and yet her persistence resulted in her dogged perseverance. It was just another one of the many items pertaining to Yang’s personality that Weiss loved, but which also resulted in her perpetually worrying for her lover. Honestly, if her hair wasn’t already pure white she could swear she was going grey from all the anxiety Yang caused her.

Regardless, it wasn’t as if the combined presence of another eleven Huntsmen and Huntresses fully armed with their weaponry (Yang, Silver and Blake insisted upon it after their previous excursions into Vale had left them unarmed) improved matters any. Everyone security guard had itchy trigger fingers and their nerves were only more frayed by the Beacon students also carrying weapons. From what Weiss learnt in the few minutes proceeding Yang’s introduction, as well as from Silver’s previously brief introduction of the establishment, it had a reputation for being a seedy institution. As such, it was more than understandable that twelve weapon-touting symbols of justice and law and order would elicit such a threatened response. 

However, all hostilities were brought to a brief closure with the emergence of an incongruously large behemoth of a man that still managed to dwarf the six-foot-tall Silver Aloi. 

“Blondie!” He yelled, exasperation and displeasure resting upon his face as he ascended the staircase up to the group of them. “I thought we had a god-damn understanding after our last meeting!” He growled, although he seemed to immediately regret approaching her so forcefully, hesitating in closing the small distance that remained between them. 

“Relax, Junior! I’m here with my friends! We’re customers tonight.” Yang said gleefully, giving him a toothy grin, as well as shooting him a momentary glare that dared him to try and force the issue. Of course, he wouldn’t dare and Yang knew that all too well. The first time they had tangled resulted in the club-owner’s front set of teeth being completely shattered and requiring surgery. Yang motioned over to Silver “I believe you two are already acquainted?” 

Junior’s eyes momentarily widened upon falling on top of Silver, his expression turning even further bewildered than before as his mind raced to try and properly understand just why a previous customer for his information services was standing side by side with a Huntress. 

“Aloi? You I expected, but blondie…” Junior began before Yang growled in a low pitch, warningly, causing Junior to gulp nervously “Uh, I mean, but you’re with Miss Xiao Long?” Silver looked quizzical at the sudden change from the confrontational attitude of Junior to that of a timid mouse, but let it slide. 

“It’s a long story, and I need a lot of alcohol before I’m even gonna try explaining it. I did reserve some booths, didn’t I? Mind taking us to them?” 

Junior audibly sighed, motioning to his security detail to lower their weapons and disperse, which they did albeit reluctantly. They shot RWBY, SLVR and JNPR some mistrustful looks, but if that was to be the worst of it then they honestly had little to worry about. 

“Don’t make me regret this…” Junior huffed, beggingly, and both Silver and Yang shared a pleased snort of delight. 

“We wouldn’t dream of it.” Yang finished before following Junior down the steps towards the ground floor of the club. 

“Did that…. really just happen?” Jaune wheezed, having held his breath the entire time they had a catalogue of guns pointed straight them. Ruby chuckled, for the first time that entire night actually showing some of her whimsically positive demeanour. 

“Come on, Jaune, you should be used to it by now.” Ruby said.

“In his defence, he hasn’t been desensitised to having guns pointed at him on a regular basis like we have.” Weiss added as she followed the remainder of their group down the staircase. 

“Yeah, uh, it wasn’t so much the guns getting to me as much as it was the fact all Yang had to do to start a Mexican stand-off was walk into a room…” Jaune replied.  
“That’s nothing, you should have seen that one time Viridian walked into one of the crime bosses of Vaccuo’s territories back in our mercenary days…” Red muttered, rubbing her forehead.

“Do I want to know?” Jaune asked.

“Dead sons of drug lords, drug shipments being blown up, stashes of Lien being robbed to fund our jobs and a whole lot of collateral damage.” Linen listed the excessive level of details like he was recalling something that had happened only mere moments ago, much to Jaune’s drooping jaw. 

“Trust us, you guys haven’t been nearly as desensitised to violence as we have after the shit Viri has put us through. For better or worse…” Red chuckled morbidly. “She’s our little psychopath.” Red said with far too much affection given the nature of the conversation. Just as Red was talking, the girl in question entangled herself with the Fox-Faunus.

“Aww, gee, thanks a bunch Red!” Viridian giggled in a erratically gleeful way, with the Faunus ruffling her head.

“You’re welcome my dear, want to be my first dance of the night before I get too waisted to lead?” 

“Sounds cool!” Viridian nodded enthusiastically in agreement, linking her hand with Red’s as they skipped down together towards the bright white dancefloor that was pulsating with colours from singular solid colours to a multitude of countless in rhythm with the pulsating club-music. 

“Are you fine with them going off together alone like that?” Pyrrha questioned and Silver found something oddly humorous with the inquiry, laughing mildly.

“Ha-ha, yeah. Red and Viridian are like sisters. Red likes to spoil Viri, and I’m no different. Let them have their fun.” Silver then gestured to their booths, a group of semi-circular cushioned seats with a table lining down one of the walls of the club adjacent to the dance floor for easy access, which itself sat right in front of the bar. “So, drinks? I could use one…or two, hell, several would be best.”

Yang smirked “So long as I get my Strawberry Sunrise, I’ve got no complaints.”

 

After the drinks were properly dispensed and the group of Beacon students had interchangeably danced in their separate groups that proportionally mixed the three different teams, they had moved into a relaxing evening of casual chat and the sharing of stories. 

For the older members of each team, the alcohol proved effective enough to removed whatever edge there was or uneasiness between team SLVR and their contemporaries. Essentially, everyone was able to drink since everyone had hit the age range of eighteen, the legal drinking age in Vale. Although, you did still require and ID, of which none of the students had brought with them. However, this didn’t prevent them from procuring drinks due in no small part to Junior not wanting to upset the blonde brawler that was Yang Xiao Long. This eliminated the need to follow the letter of the law, despite the fact that his establishment consciously ignored them anyway for most of their operations. 

They had proven to each find somebody in which they could bond and grow closer with. Yang and Silver learnt they were both fans of making others laugh, even if their own brands of humour sometimes worked only to frustrated their friends, though that was half the fun of it sometimes. 

Yang, of course, enjoyed her puns and terrible wordplay, whereas Silver enjoyed making jokes at others expenses even if it was light-heartedly, which when done correctly even managed to get Ruby to giggled and the stoic Blake to chuckle quietly to herself. 

As for the others, Viridian learnt that she and Nora were like two eccentric pees in a pod which came to the surprise of exactly no one. Nora’s own eccentricity paired perfectly with Viridian’s own off-kilter psychosis like they had been speaking the same foreign language to their teammates for years and upon meeting each-other finally understand what proper communication was finally like. It was cute, in its own disturbing way. 

Meanwhile, Blake and Weiss discovered that Linen was a perfect conversationalist for the two of them, since he was a walking-talking encyclopaedia and was incredibly well-read and educated so he could converse about whatever interest the two girls had; whether it was about literature with Blake or discussing more academic topics with Weiss. 

Jaune and Pyrrha were more interested in each-other as they were still entirely embroiled in that “honeymoon” period at the beginning of a relationship with Pyrrha practically doting of Jaune, amateurishly flirting with him over every little detail. Silver and Yang had to literally bite their tongue in order to stop themselves from laughing, the last thing they wanted was to offend the invincible girl and get a good thrashing for their recompense. 

There was one individual who wasn’t allowed to drink and chose not to socialise with their new found allies, however: Ruby Rose. She had just turned sixteen herself, and even then, she remained younger than the typical first year initiate at Beacon Academy. It was both a gift and a curse to be fast-tracked as she was into the unique position she was in. On one hand, it was a delight and an honour to be held in such high esteem both because of her skill and heroic demeanour that Ozpin considered her an exemplary Huntress and welcome addition to Beacon’s student body despite her young age. Alternatively, it drew the ire and jealously of many others. Some refused to take her seriously or consider her a valid student, much less a leader. Weiss was, of course, one of the many who had originally held this interpretation of Ruby. Fortunately, the brunette had proven through her dedication and determination to both self-improvement and display of her variety of attributes that she was more than ready for the role, and had earned the Heiress’ respect and approval over time. Regardless, not everyone was as easy to win over or even willing to consider the mere idea. Silver and his crew were different, though came as little surprise to Ruby. They were not the perfect reflection of society nor the strict adherence to rules and regulations that one could find within the human population. This may also have been because of Silver and Red’s Faunus heritage, as they had no reason to follow typical expectation laid out by humanity. The Faunus did whatever was best for them, and age rarely was ever a barrier to entry for anything within reason. Similarly, this was not unlike Blake. Blake hadn’t been wary of Ruby at all upon being teamed up with the younger Huntress. In fact, she made little comment on it at all and displayed no distrust or ill-intent. Perhaps this was only because Blake usually kept herself to herself and scarcely confronted any issue directly. Nonetheless, Ruby chose to interpret Blake’s silence as approval and validation of her role as team leader. Maybe this was in part due to her own bias and a form of historical revisionism because of her clear affections of the Cat-Faunus, but she desperately wanted it to be true. She craved that validation. She couldn’t trust her own leadership unless she was constantly approved, it was why she tried so hard to prove to Weiss she was in fact, capable. 

Ruby sighed and leaned over her section of the table in the booth that contained herself, Blake, Yang and Silver. The table was splattered with small droplets of spilt alcohol, mostly from her sister and Silver as they were the two most active drinkers of the entire group. 

Little known fact, Yang had a very big tolerance to the Devil’s nectar, mainly because in her younger days at Signal Yang had taken part in those youthful teenage parties where her friends somehow procured drinks illegally so they could drink underage. Once or twice their Father had found out about Yang’s misadventures and lectured the hungover Blonde, which was enough incentive to not make it a habit to ever drink excessively. In fact, Yang only ever drank at parties and made sure to never overdue it. She had to fulfil the role left empty in the absence of Summer Rose, so beyond the first few times where she wasn’t aware of her own limits, Yang had managed to hold her own and never got anything beyond tipsy. In any event, she still became louder and more animated in her movement as she joked and laughed heartily with Silver whilst the two of them traded stories back and forth. 

Truth be told, Ruby had been drinking that night. She had subtly waited for Yang to become indulged enough in her drink and socialisation with their new friends to personally acquire drinks for herself. Junior was tentative to let a minor drink, especially when it was Yang’s sister and Yang her explicitly stated on penalty of death to not allow even a drop pass Ruby’s lips, but Ruby was determined and the prospect of upsetting someone related to Yang seemed enough motivation for Junior. Apparently Ruby could muster up a similar death-stare and frightening temper as Yang could, though this was more of an exception due in no small part to Ruby’s impatience and angst over her failure to court Blake. 

Ruby made sure to purchase drinks she could disguise as regular beverages. Rum and coke worked well enough, as it still mostly looked like coke; the low-level lighting also helped with the beverages already dark complexion. Of course, there was the problem of Blake who refused to let Ruby have an inch of personal space except for when Ruby needed to go to the bathroom or when Blake had been convinced to dance with Nora and Ren briefly. The problem arose from what it always did with Blake: her Faunus attributes. She could see in the dark and make out the obvious details that marked Ruby’s drink as alcoholic but surprisingly enough she didn’t snitch on her leader. Ruby found that a curious decision, one that if her inquisitive nature hadn’t been dulled by alcohol she might have followed up on. Ruby was no detective, that was left to Sun and Neptune, but if she had to formulate a conclusion based on the evidence she had she would propose this idea: Blake was likely allowing Ruby to drink in order for the brunette to finally open up about what was on her mind. It made sense, clearly Blake was formulating some plan on how to get the truth out of Ruby and discover what had been tearing her apart from the inside out. She had been observing Ruby out of the corner of her eye all night, sometimes looking ever-so-slightly concerned in her own unique way that only those close to Blake could ever notice, and sometimes appearing amused whenever Ruby did something innocuous like make a naïve or silly comment, or lose her footing in those blasted heels. Seriously, how did Weiss manage to walk in them practically 24/7? Perhaps that was the reason, that she had become so used to them. 

Ruby couldn’t deny she herself was curious about the vague smiles and amusement Blake was explicitly affording the youngest participant in their night out. She didn’t care though. She couldn’t. She had learnt she had a very low tolerance for alcohol and any use of her cognitive abilities was both taxing and not worth it when she realised she wasn’t going to discover and immediate answer. Ruby experienced the full range of the effects that alcohol could play on her, initially, it made the whole world feel lighter and pushed all the negative thoughts to the back of her mind very quickly and for the first time since Blake had informed Ruby of her past, the brunette felt like she was back to her old self; happy, bubbly and talkative. 

Of course, this was all temporary as she soon found out. Whether it was from the effects being negated by a lack of consistent consumption or some cruel ironic twist brought about by the inherent effects of her drink, she soon found herself even more lackadaisical and depressed than before. She couldn’t get Blake out of her thoughts, she couldn’t convince herself there was something to be happy about, and she was struggling to prevent the torrent of tears that was being held back by her rapidly fading willpower. 

“Hey, Blake?” Ruby’s eyes rolled over in the direction of Linen, who was stood in front of their table. “You’ve been sat down for a while. Mind if I take the next dance?” He offered, no ulterior motive than to spend some time with a newly bonded friend whom the two had been discussing their favourite pieces of literature over the course of the night. Even so, Ruby felt jealous and angry Linen would dare offer a dance to Blake. That was Ruby’s job, not that she could ever muster up the courage to do so. 

Blake looked pensive, eyes darting down to the slumped form of Ruby next to her. Despite Ruby’s complaints over how close Blake had been sticking to her for the entire night, somehow, she found in direction contradiction that she was enjoying the warmth of Blake’s body so close to her own and the knowledge that even if it was innocently platonic, Ruby was the only thing on Blake’s mind the entire night. She wanted it to desperately stay that way. 

“Why not? It’ll be good to stretch my legs for a few minutes.” Ruby could feel her chest tighten considerably, and tears well up in her eyes. It didn’t make sense to be so upset by Blake just wanting to dance for a bit. It was a night out and the Faunus rarely indulged herself in such a way, so exploring the medium of a nightclub and coming out of her shell should have been something Ruby was proud of. She supposed it might have been the alcohol’s effects making her overemotional, but even so crying about something so minor should not have been the proportional reaction. She wasn’t rejecting Ruby, not directly at least.

“Awesome. Red’s well and truly gotten herself hammered. So, if I can have a non-hysteric dance partner who doesn’t trip over her own feet, that would be swell.” Linen joked about Blake snorted softly in amusement, standing up and sliding past Ruby, her hand and its open palm momentarily sliding past and comfortingly stroking Ruby’s back as she glided by. Ruby could feel every agonising inch like a needle piercing her heart as the velvety soft skin of Blake made her skin prickle and shiver pleasingly. She shuddered a deep breath mewed in response, but thankfully Blake either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. It was meant to be a gesture to inform Ruby she wouldn’t be gone long, but it only proved to perturbed Ruby more. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t Blake just love her? Or at the very least, why couldn’t Ruby just move past it?

Somewhere, as if from nothing but her emotional instability, Ruby found a burst of strength and vigour. She pushed herself off from her seat and sped past Blake, making sure to keep her eyes fixated on the ground below, gun-metal eyes concealed by her red-tinged bangs. She made sure in a fit of childish jealousy, to bump into Linen and shove him to one side rudely. Ruby marched onwards, ignoring the inquiries from Yang and Linen as to what was wrong, making a head for the fire-exit of the building to get some much-needed fresh air and solitude. 

“What’s her problem?” Linen asked, eyes darting between the clearly concerned and worried Blake to the astounded Yang at seeing her sister at acting so rude and inconsiderate. 

“That was really unlike her, I’m sorry Linen…she’s been acting up recently.” Yang apologised, shaking her head, pushing up from the table in preparation to follow. 

Blake moved in front of Yang and placed a hand on her partner’s shoulder “No. Let me go.” Blake insisted, her usually deadpan expression replaced by a hard determination better suited for either of the Xiao Long-Rose sisters. 

“You sure, Blakey? Angsty Ruby is not exactly something they train for you to deal with in Beacon.” Yang jested light-heartedly, and it earnt a small smile from Blake. 

“Mmm. I don’t know why, but I think it’s my fault. I’ve been sticking really close, hoping she might confide in me. I should apologise for not giving her space.” Blake explained and Yang nodded.  
“All-right then, I’ll leave it in your capable hands, kitty-cat.” Yang winked and Blake rolled her eyes.

“At least you didn’t offer up an awful pun…” Blake thanked nobody in particular.

“Don’t you mean a pawful pun, kitty-cat?” Yang winked, smiling with a toothy grin as everyone in their collective unit sighed. “You’ve gotta be kitten me right meow! That one was great, right, Blake? Blake?” Yang looked to her partner, who was simply shaking her head.

“Nothing can be worse than this. I’m willing to bet one hundred Lien whatever Ruby is dealing with is going to be easier to deal with than your humour…” Blake chided in a humorously manner, earning her a laugh from Silver.

“No amount of alcohol can make Yang’s jokes bearable.” He added, giving Blake a wink.

“Stuff it, Wolfy.”

 

Ruby waited out back by herself in the middle of an alleyway that the fire-exit lead to. It was a typical brick alley, rubbish discarded haphazardly around the concrete jungle without care or consideration for how it ruined the mystique and glamour of the club itself. Not that it particularly mattered to Ruby, she was just happy to be alone with her thoughts and to finally allow the dam that was holding back her tears to break apart so she could finally unleash her pent and bottled up emotions of the past few days. Rather appropriately, it was raining down a torrent of water from the heavens above as if paradise itself was weeping for Ruby and her suffering. It ruined the light blush and eyeline Ruby had applied just prior to their outing that evening, marring and streaking the dark black mascara down her face in the same shape as the rainwater and tears that were synchronising in their passage. 

If someone had expected Ruby to come to some epiphany or conclusion that offered the young girl closure, they’d be sorely mistaken. The solitude offered Ruby plenty of opportunity to cry and release what she had held back for so long, and in some way, it was strangely therapeutic, but beyond that nothing appeared solved. Being around Blake hurt. Being in love with Blake hurt. But she loved every painful second, she spent with Blake. It was sickeningly sweet. Which made it all the more worse.

No matter what Ruby did, or how she tried to think of how best to figure out what to do, she always came back to the conclusion even though giving up on Blake would probably be best for her mental health, she couldn’t do that. As futile as it was, this wasn’t something she could arbitrarily give up on, like those puzzle she was given as a child because of her lack of attention span. She wanted so badly to grasp on to Blake and never let go of her, no matter how much pain she would feel. And therein lied the problem. She couldn’t think rationally. She couldn’t make the healthy decision.

“Is this…what it means to be in love?” Ruby asked herself, sombrely, finding some dark humour in her own inquiry as she chuckled breathlessly. 

The door to the fire-exit creaked open, and out stood Blake from behind it, looking either side of the alley until she found the drenched and mascara-stained Ruby Rose looking abject and depressed. 

“There you are…” Blake said in her typically solemn and unemotive manner, though there was a trickle of relief hidden below the surface. 

Ruby wiped at her tears but only ended up smearing her make-up even more messily across her face, transforming her from tragically beautiful to either an abstract piece of modern art or a child who had discovered their Mother’s make-up cabinet for the very first time. Blake managed a miniscule smile, bringing her hand up to wipe away at the dark black smudges maligning Ruby’s porcelain skin. Ruby couldn’t help but sigh sadly at Blake’s touch, remarking for what must have been the millionth time that she would never get to experience Blake’s touch in nothing but passing. A discreet, sympathetic and unromantic glancing expression of platonic love. Nothing more. It could never be more. And yet, much like what had brought her to this self-destructive precipice, she couldn’t convince herself not to completely indulge herself in Blake’s warm touch. Warm. So beautifully satisfying and calming. For a few brief moments, Ruby could forget about the world and enjoy the space and time the two girls shared and forget about the world. Forget about her problems. 

That was, until Blake pressed the issue.

“What’s wrong?” It was a simplistic question, open-ended as not to assume, and therefore coax Ruby into confessing her demons. It was frustrating, it set Ruby off like she knew it normally shouldn’t, but these were no normal times. She was dealing with tormenting feelings like she had never felt before. Or at least, not to such an enormous extent. It was comprehendible that Blake being so ignorant to the reality of Ruby’s issues would set Ruby off being so irritable as a result of the newly blossoming emotions and experiences she was undergoing, along with the realisation that she would never get to properly experience her first love like all those soppy late afternoon kids romance shows had told her about. It was all so confusing and infuriating, especially since not six months ago Ruby was barely aware of her own sexuality or preferences. But then again, who could expect to remain sexually indifferent when you were around the personification of beauty in the form of a ninja cat-girl? Seriously, that just wasn’t playing fair, universe. 

It wasn’t Blake’s fault, and Ruby knew that. But that didn’t stop Blake’s lack of information from angering Ruby. She growled, gritting her teeth together and clenching her fists, shrugging Blake’s hand off from her. 

“What’s wrong? What’s. Wrong. Of course you’d ask that. Of course you’d be the one to ask me that!” Ruby shouted, and Blake recoiled slightly, taken aback by the explosive nature of Ruby’s tone. 

“Ruby, I don’t…” Blake began, but was immediately cut off as Ruby’s gun-metal eyes finally looked up into her own amber ones. They were a torrent of anger, confusion, sadness and yearning. Yearning for what, Blake wasn’t so sure. She knew she saw that same look in Adam once, and that scared her. It was not something she associated with Ruby. It wasn’t something she wanted to associate with Ruby.

“You don’t get it! Nobody gets it! Am I the only one who’s ever felt this way?! Why does it hurt, Blake?! Why does it hurt so damn much?!” Ruby croaked, fighting back her tears as she displayed just how worn down and distraught she was. Blake quickly enveloped Ruby, choosing not to be afraid of whatever she thought she had seen. Ruby needed her help, her comfort. It didn’t matter what was distressing her, Blake simply knew she needed to try and fix it. 

“What hurts, Ruby? Please, explain it to me. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe I might be able to help?” Blake begged, she herself wasn’t being held together by much at this point. Seeing her close friend in such a sorry state was making her cry, causing that demeanour of coolness mixed with her stoic tone and attitude break apart and become far more emotive than usual. 

Ruby initially didn’t vocalize her protests and instead opted to shake her head that was resting atop Blake’s chest. “No…” She whimpered “You can’t…”

“Why not?”

Ruby took a shaky breath to steady herself, for what little good it did, and then pushed Blake away from herself in order to create some distance “Nobody can help me, least of all you…” Ruby said.

“What did I do? Ruby, did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?” Blake asked, and started to reach out to touch the younger girl, only for her hand to be swatted away by the brunette. 

“Nothing! You did nothing! You don’t know anything and it doesn’t even matter if you do! Because I’m not him!” Ruby started shouting and pushing at Blake’s shoulders, weakly striking Blake with open palms like she was trying to push Blake away, personifying her emotions.

Blake caught Ruby by the hands, the strikes weren’t hurting, Ruby barely had the balance to walk in her heels, let alone generate the stabability needed to hurt Blake in any way. “Ruby, what are you taking about?” Blake asked, sterner than before, before realising just how close they were now. Ruby was leant in towards Blake, bent over slightly and only being held up by the grasp Blake had on her. It formed a small blush on both of their faces, mostly from the embarrassment and alcohol, Blake assumed. “Who’s this person you’re not?”

“…dam…” Ruby whimpered dejectedly between her sobs. 

“What? Ruby…you didn’t…” Blake’s eyes widened slightly, confused and bewildered at what she thought Ruby had said. Ruby was near-silent, but from how close they were Blake had a fairly good grasp on what she was saying, or what she thought Ruby had been saying anyway. It didn’t make sense. 

“Adam! I fucking said Adam, okay?!” Blake looked stunned, scared even, but that didn’t stop Ruby. “Yeah! Your ex! You want to know why?! Because I’m in love with you! It’s scary and confusing and I don’t know why I feel this way but I do! But none of it, none of it, matters because you’ll never love anyone the same way you did him, right?! So, fuck it! Fuck it all! All of this is so painful because I wake up every day and you’re there! Reminding me of everything I want but can’t have! I train every day, and you’re there! I study every day and you’re there! I try, and try, and try so hard…and you’re. Still. There.” Ruby started shouting, ranting and raving in earnest before she quickly started breaking down in tears once more. “All I want is to kiss you…all I want is for this pain to go away, Blake. And I can only do that if I stop loving you. Make it go away, please…” Ruby begged, shaking in Blake’s grasp, of which the Faunus had only just realised how tight she was clasped around Ruby’s wrists; turning the already pale skin even more so. “I’m the youngest…” Ruby breathed out, shakily “I’ve never known what love feels like, or how it should feel like. I’m not my sister, I’ve never been interested in anyone like that. Not really. It was always just admiration. Romanticising what people are, not who they were. But you changed that! Everything from your long, black, beautiful hair, your elegant looks and cool personality to your interests in books were so charming and pretty and cool! They drew me in and now I’m just this confused, naïve girl! I don’t know what to think and I don’t want this pain to continue, Blake! This is your fault! Take responsibility!” 

What to do? That’s what Blake was thinking. To say Ruby’s revelation was shocking or hit her like a bombshell would be understating just how astonishing all of this was. Never in the months Blake had known Ruby, in all their time training and studying and living side by side had she ever considered or entertained the idea Ruby would be attracted to her, specificically. Sure, she had been aware Ruby had a mild attraction or admiration for any Huntsmen or Huntress on campus just because for one: She was enamoured with weaponry, and two: the idea of being a Hunter was Ruby’s very dream and seeing that be placed in reality stirred up that idealistic side of the young girl and brought a combination of excitement and life-long admiration to the surface that one could easily confuse with a romantic attachment. But never did Blake actually believe Ruby could feel that way about a person. She had proven remarkably indifferent to dating and romance itself, never looking for a partner to the Beacon dance or considering it worth her time. The feminine side of Ruby’s character of course was excited to wear a beautiful dress and a party itself was a nice opportunity to cut loose and enjoy what was on offer, but that’s all that Ruby really cared for. Looking for a partner or date simply didn’t cross her mind. Perhaps it was because Ruby was too young or entirely asexual, but in either case she had never displayed a hint that Blake was the object of her fantasies. That was until…

And then Blake realised it. Ever since they had started spending time together, Ruby had become clingy. Maybe even obsessive with Blake. They spent practically all their time together, and even developed a level of skinship that had once or twice been the butt of many jokes about them being in a relationship, but Blake had just assumed that was what Ruby was like in general. She was sweet, kind, energetic and loving to all. Or, maybe, that’s just how Blake wanted to see it. To pretend it wasn’t real. To pretend Ruby wasn’t in love with her. Hearing what Blake had to say about her past with Adam must have changed everything for the brunette. From subtle flirts to explicit displays of affection having assumed a relationship with Blake was somewhat feasible, to question everything about herself and her newfound love, as well as bringing her down into a state of dejection and misery. 

It was Blake’s fault. It was all her fault. She hadn’t intended it, but she was the one who did it. Being told you couldn’t be loved by the person you loved as much they did their previous partner must have been cataclysmically heart-breaking. It explained Ruby’s attitude and apathy as well as her drinking. It was a heavy weight for Blake to bear, but it was her’s to bear. She had unwittingly earnt it, despite admmitantly being aware on a certain level what Ruby wanted thanks to her less-than-subtle actions. 

Blake took a heavy sigh. She looked down at the smudged mascara and puffy red eyes and cheeks of Ruby Rose from her crying. She really was suffering, and that wasn’t fair. Yet, through all of the pain etched onto her face and the complete mess she was, she was still beautiful in that dress. Still the same innocently sweet and kind Ruby Rose.

“I’m sorry…” Blake apologised and grabbed Ruby by either cheek, hoisting the smaller girl up towards her own face, and kissed Ruby. 

It wasn’t chaste, nor was deviant and lewd. It was passionate and honest, breath-stealing and utterly perfect. Ruby’s numb and cold fingers from the below-average temperature and rain ignited as did her entire body, pooling at the bottom of her stomach. She didn’t understand, and she didn’t care to. Whether it was just for a moment, or an eternity, the space between her and Blake as well as between their hearts, had been completely dissolved in an electrifying demonstration of passion. The reason for her apology didn’t matter, for now, Ruby just kissed back. Her first kiss, her first ever kiss, with Blake Belladonna. 

“Ruby…” Blake said, as she broke the kiss, but kept the distance between them minimal, her lips brushing against Ruby’s as she called the younger girl’s name through shared pants. “When I…what I said about Adam, that doesn’t mean…” Blake began, before a shard of rubble no bigger than a pebble dropped down and rattled down on the ground having fallen from above. Blake and Ruby both looked up immediately, instinctively from their time as Huntresses on the battlefield and were shocked to see a White Fang soldier hung from the edge of a rooftop, upside down, with the back of his knees and legs; giving them a sickeningly evil smirk.

“Oh, by all means, don’t allow me to interrupt this heartfelt admission of love between two friends.” The soldier angled his mask away from one eye, presenting a maliciously glowing crimson eye, trained on the two of them. “Although, if I could trouble you two for the location of a Linen Blanc, I’d very much appreciate that.” Lucian cackled wickedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> *Sighs in relief* Wow! Long chapter! Sorry it took me so long to get it out, but the planning and writing was broken up with sickness and lots of college work. But hopefully the length somewhat makes up for that. Additionally, my exams start soon so for the next month and a half I will be somewhat occupied, so don't expect much. Not saying I won't write, but I won't have time to plan/edit beyond what I've already planned/written. So there will be a momentary hiatus. This isn't to say I might not update the story in my free time, I'll just have less of it.
> 
> Anyway, on to the story! 
> 
> So we finally had all of RWBY and SLVR bonding somewhat, even if the direct conversations were overlooked somewhat, but the thrust of the chapter was giving them some situations to bond in general. 
> 
> Yang meats up with Junior once more, so of course I referenced her expedition with Neptune to Junior's club in season 2. I like my meta-jokes. So, Junior's club is named "Shade & Shiv" because I couldn't think of much really. "Shade" because it's a nightclub and they're dark and "Shiv" because of the small blade that's related to gangs and criminals. The show never gave his club an actual name, and him as a character is too obscure for me to know much of, so I went with something generic. It's not that prevalent, so I didn't put too much effort in. 
> 
> Oh, and of course Silver has connections with the criminal underworld. Mercenary gotta be informed about everything, and legitimate sources can't inform you of everything. 
> 
> I guess I should address the main development of the chapter? LadyBug is a thing! Or is it?! I left it vague. Muahaha. They kissed at the least, hopefully that will sate your appetites whilst leaving you guessing somewhat. 
> 
> Poor Ruby though, she's never loved before so of course being so young means she's not sure how to feel, or react, or even what to do. Having Blake bear her soul and learn Adam was the only person she could love "like that" would cause Ruby great angst and torment. Blake's perceptive, but she can't read minds. It serves to make her blame herself a little, which Blake has a habit of doing from the series. She's quit self-critical, the difference being since being around team RWBY more after not having to run away post-volume 3 she's learnt to trust them and push her insecurities away somewhat. So instead of running from a broken and angry Ruby, she attempted to solve the issue. Did she succeed? We'll see.
> 
> Lucian is a cock/romance-block extraordinaire by any metrics. I introduced him with Cinder for a reason. We'll see what he's up to next chapter!


	22. Paint the Town Red and Black- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake learns of the White Fang's motives. Silver and Yang discuss the nature of Viridian's powers.

“Blake Belladonna! Well, isn’t this just too perfect? I come looking for a pesky little hacker, and instead I find the grand traitor!” Lucian said, after dropping from his vantage point and righting himself mid-air, landing in a crouch. He stood to his height, placing one hand on his hip whilst the other sought out the concrete wall nearest to him, his digits playing with the solid material in a soft caress. “I must confess, I was quite aware of your presence and may have been a little headstrong with tasking myself as the Vanguard for this operation, but I had no idea I’d be granted such an…intimate audience with you.” 

Blake backed up, her body tensing at the perverse and dark nature of his wording, taking an additional half-step on top of Lucian’s advance in order to both maintain distance and increase it without telegraphing her obvious intentions to outright flee. Blake held her arm out to her side, shielding Ruby with both it and her back, making sure the younger girl was adequately shielded. She could feel Ruby’s small hands grasping tightly to Blake’s dress for a sense of balance, her consumption of alcohol leaving her bereft of the ability. She could feel a timid shaking coming from the epicentre of those milky-white hands, clearly indicating the fear and confusion that partnered Blake’s own anxieties at a White-Fang member having materialized from out of nowhere and confront them. Blake couldn’t help but allow her scepticism get the better of her, she had to formulate some theory as to why this man was here. Silver had killed Adam, and supposedly eliminated dozens, if not hundreds, of the paramilitary soldiers ever since the Attack on Beacon, including Adam himself, the leader of the Vale Chapter. Blake considered the premise that Silver could have lied about killing Adam, maybe he was even a mole acting undercover for the White Fang, although she quickly dismissed the notion as there was no evidence to support it or any reason to so swiftly reveal themselves after SLVR had begun to win Blake’s trust. The only other reasonable conclusion was that in the vacuum created by Adam’s death, someone had assumed his position and acted as the Marionette pulling the White Fang’s strings.  
It made a great deal of sense, Blake had spent a great deal of her time not just reading fictional stories but also historically based novella, diaries and textbooks recounting militaristic campaigns and usurpations through violent means. It was a common trend amongst militant groups for someone to quickly assume the place of a disposed or deceased leader either out of necessity or ambition. Adam’s death would be viewed as tragic by many, but for some it would have presented the perfect opportunity to thrust themselves into the limelight of the White Fang’s holy crusade. 

What Blake feared however, was that the enemy she had known was now replaced by the enemy she didn’t. Whomever this man was, whatever way in which he bore similarity to Adam in belief and conduct didn’t matter; Blake couldn’t know what to expect from him. Adam always kept her on her toes, but that was because she knew Adam kept her a primary target. But this new individual was a complete mystery, as was his goal, and that worried Blake. She couldn’t plan ahead or anticipate his next move. 

“What are you doing here? Why do you want Linen?” Blake asked, thinking that so long as she kept the conversation going that it would at the very least delay any confrontation between them, and at best might give cause for concern from the rest of her group as to what was taking Blake so long to retrieve Ruby and could result in backup arriving. If nothing else, Blake may get some answers even if they would be certainly cryptic. 

Lucian chuckled, using his free hand that was playing with the concrete wall to tap his lips with his index fingers, finding her line of inquiry amusing. “Now, now, Miss Belladonna; wouldn’t that be too easy? The answer isn’t too hard to figure out anyway, I’m sure you’re capable.” Lucian said. 

Blake began racking her brain, searching for whatever conclusion or hypothesis seemed realistic for Lucian being here. She knew the answer couldn’t be too difficult to figure out, but the hysteria and apprehension from a White Fang soldier cornering her and Ruby, a girl that had also contributed to the storm of confusion and haziness in her head, was preventing her from thinking too clearly. She searched back, right to the start of the conversation with Lucian and her eyes bloomed like perennial flowers in Spring. 

“That’s right…Linen and the rest of SLVR has access to Vale’s defence systems. You want Linen…so you can tear down Vale with the Grimm, or make it bow down to the White Fang with the threat of doing so…just like Raven…” Blake’s stomach dropped, and she felt very nauseous. Worse than even the sickening sensation conjured up when she remembered the awful things she had seen Adam do, on top of the things he had done to her.

“Bingo, you catch on pretty quickly. No wonder Adam spoke so highly of you,” Lucian chuckled, interrupting himself with whatever made him laugh. “You know, it’s funny. Even when he perpetually talked about punishing you and causing you nothing but pain, there was still the slightest glint of hope in his eyes. A feeling of grudging respect to the one person who dared to stand up to him. As if he hoped one day you’d come walking back into his arms.” He shook his head, bringing his hand to face like he couldn’t quite believe the conflicting revelation himself. “Ah, but that’s beside the point. Now that I know you’re here…” his smile turned cruel and sadistic “I can avenge my mentor’s death, and the humiliation you caused him.”

Blake gulped, fear striking like ice water trickling down every nerve in her body. “Your Mentor…? Do you mean Adam was your mentor?” Blake felt dirty just saying his name, and the sensation of fear and regret she had been conditioned to feel at the mention of his name proved to be present as always even after his death.

“Yes. You made our leader a joke, Blake. He obsessed over you, perpetually distracted from our goal because of how he needed you. You left him a broken man. It was pathetic. In a way, I was somewhat glad he died,” Lucian’s sadistic grin faded, and he bore his teeth in primal rage “Because it was you, Belladonna, who ruined and killed the character and essence of the man we united behind!” he yelled in accusation and denunciation of Blake. 

His soft caress of the concrete wall matched the change in his countenance, his finger biting into the wall and shattering it, ripping out a chunk the size of his palm and held it out in front of him. The chunk of wall began to melt, but not in the expectant fashion. It did not drip off his limb, nor pool onto the ground below. Instead, it sunk and cast itself around his hand and began to spread up his exposed arms to the shoulder, his skin morphing into the shape, colour and texture of concrete. He tensed his now concrete hand, the limb still as flexible as if it was made of flesh and bone.

“And I’ll be the one to exact his righteous fury, and punish you just as he would have wanted.” 

 

Meanwhile, back within the club itself the combined elements of RWBY, SLVR and JNPR were somewhat separated in their interests. Yang was busy telling awful jokes coupled with more stories from her childhood with Ruby, which managed to elicit the sweetest of laughter from the somewhat buzzed Weiss, a near constant blush spread across her cheeks. As previously acknowledged, she wasn’t the best at holding her liquor, but the source of her flushed expression also originated to a certain degree from Yang’s hand resting on her lap, and the close proximity in which she was to Yang’s breasts, having retreated there for comfort as the lateness of the night along with the alcohol she had consumed sapping her of strength.

Directly across from them, the only couple other than the Heiress and the brawler in that booth, was Silver and an unconscious Viridian. Silver had been pacing himself with his drink, making sure to consume some food beforehand to limit its effect on him so he could hold some rationality and logical process as he had tasked it upon himself to watch over his newfound friends and confidants. The Summer Maiden, on the other hand, was completely unconscious; snuggled up to Silver’s side with her legs resting atop the seating of their booth with her team leader’s arm protectively looped around her shoulders; massaging and petting her comfortingly which helped to elicit soft mews from the girl which drew a content smile from the Faunus.

“She gets tired easily?” Yang asked, having grown a lot more comfortable with Silver in the few hours they had been afforded. In truth, like Silver had planned it, the alcohol helped lower judgements and inhibitions to a degree, allowing the two of them the circumstances to not try and tear each-other’s throats out. Although once the animosities were removed, it proved they had very little they could actually hate about the other. In fact, it proved they could reasonably enjoy the other’s company. It was similar in essence to Yang’s relationship with Blake, of course the human who grew up on a small agricultural island could never understand the pain of a Faunus in its entirety but Yang’s personality and way of an egalitarian approach to treating others based on character and action superseded that. Yang’s carefree attitude coupled with the caring and even philosophical outlook of an older sister wasn’t too different to Silver’s protective leadership style of his own team. They both shared a form of humour they were only too happy to express, even if it differed from Yang’s puns to Silver’s dark and dry tastes. They also grew to sympathise with the other’s pains, from that of Yang’s obsessive search for her Mother that once almost cost hers and Ruby’s own lives to Silver’s own desire to protect and search for meaning for his team, although in the retelling of events he often left out the more gruesome details of his team’s past.

“Having a fractured mind along with being a Maiden can be incredibly taxing on her.” Silver stated quietly, dipping his head down to Viridian’s raven and blonde coloured hair to enjoy the texture and scent of his lover, her own soft coos swelling as he did so.

“I wondered when you were going to mention that.” Yang said, somewhat vaguely but Silver understood what she meant. It was obvious, after all, that the only thing she could be really referring to is the practically biblical powers Viridian had interlaced with her very soul.

“It’s not exactly something you openly discuss.” Silver said, looking back up to see Yang was smirking, but only on one half of her face, trying to retain some semblance of seriousness.

“Go ahead.” Silver rolled his eyes, smiling to himself amusedly over Yang’s attempts to take herself seriously.

“I guess you could say being a Maiden really…takes the _Spring_ out of her step?” Yang quipped, even getting a small chuckle out of the buzzed Heiress to her side.

“She’s the Summer Maiden, Yang. Not Spring. Nice try.” Silver flicked his eyebrows teasingly, internally praising Yang’s quick-wittedness. 

“Ugh, you take the fun out of everything.” Yang pouted, theatrically, although only for a moment before she brushed a drooping lock of her hair behind her ear and her countenance changed to a more serious expression. “So…she’s a Maiden? Like the stories? Actual magic that’s doesn’t need Dust to fuel it? When I fought her, I felt something suffocating. Her aura was so dense and strong it was crushing. That’s what it feels like? Being in the presence of a Maiden?” she asked.

The Faunus chuckled “You get used to it.” Silver nodded, and then snorted derisively “Don’t think she can summer a wheat field or something though, fairy tales always exaggerate or ignore the important details so it better suits kid’s imaginations.”

“What can she do then?”

“Outfit strength and speed, summon purple fire, levitation, turn woodland creatures into vicious monsters that make the Grimm run in fear and she can somewhat alter the weather. There’s more than that but we’d be sat here forever.” Silver explained.

“Why though?” Yang asked, after taking a few brief moments to consider it all.

“I’m not sure I understand…” Silver responded.

“There has to be a reason, right? A reason why the Maiden’s exist?” Yang looked between Silver and Weiss, with the Heiress nonchalantly shrugging; showing just how much she had left to contribute. 

Silver sighed, rubbing his forehead exasperatedly as he leaned back in his seat. “This is well above my pay grade or intelligence…” he jokingly self-deprecated before sitting up again. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Everything I’ve ever heard is hearsay from ancient books, scripture, or madmen’s rantings. Keep in mind we never really questioned Viridian’s powers, they were a boon. An unmatchable inferno of power that didn’t require Dust to activate. We didn’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, so to say. More than that, we made sure to use it sparingly. Can you imagine the target on our backs if we suddenly started unleashing a power like that regularly? We’d have Atlas coming over to cut her open and dissect her, or the SDC looking to eliminate or monopolize whatever causes her power since it could threaten their own Dust business.” Silver shook his head, sighing again. “It hurts my head to think about sometimes. My job, the promise I made, was to protect Viridian with my life. Not to search for some ancient secret that has stayed buried for a reason.” Silver’s hands balled tightly into fists, straining white against his own bone, “I won’t fail her.”

Yang nodded, appreciating the protective motivation Silver showed through his words, as defensive as they seemed to imply he was being. It wasn’t like she could blame him, either, she was the same with her little sister, or her partner, or even her lover. She would be the exact same way if something or someone would threaten the existence of Ruby, Blake or Weiss. 

“But you have heard some things, right?” Yang asked, and Silver nodded, calming himself after taking a few moments to remember Yang wasn’t prying for any malicious reason, he was sure of that.

“I dunno. Maybe. As I said information was sparse, theoretical and usually contradictory so I don’t know what to tell you. Some say Maiden’s hold the very key to human survival, some say they’re the precursor to the apocalypse and some think they’re a blessing from Gods whom have long abandoned this world. However, what I do know is that she’s been speaking to Ozpin every day since we arrived. He said it was for her mental wellbeing, but I know that’s just the pretence to explore her powers or explain the situation to her.” Silver’s gaze cast away for a moment, looking out the corner of his vision judgementally and suspiciously, before returning to Yang. “But she hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it. Usually, that would be cause for suspicion. However, this is Viridian. She would tell me if there was something to be concerned over. And I trust her, completely. So, for now, I’m happy to be in the dark as you are.”

“Seems unnecessarily vague.” Yang chewed her lip, inherently not liking secrecy or clandestine operations. She valued honesty, trust and teamwork even if sometimes she could be so headstrong as to thrust herself first into a problem rather than thinking too hard about it.

“Oh trust me, we’re in the same boat there.” Silver chuckled. “From what I know though, those history books you’ve read as a kid? The stuff we’ve been led to believe as fact? Religion? Tradition?” Silver lent forward, lowering his voice.

“It’s all bullshit, right?” Yang did the same, and Silver nodded.

“You wouldn’t believe just how much of the world is supposedly built on the lie the Maidens are a fairy tale. That Gods are just something we tell ourselves about to comfort ourselves about death. Supposedly…” Silver brought up his drinks glass, turning and inspecting it like it would be some sort of looking-glass that would reveal all “Maidens have been some of the most powerful and influential women in all of history. Their powers kept from the public because it would incite wars, political and religious, across the world. It would unseat our little cooperative alliance and the peaceful world we have going because, well, mankind is greedy. Like I said, having a Maiden is a boon. It can make a group of sociopathic individuals into one of the deadliest mercenary groups in all of history. Now, imagine what a government could do with four of those?”

“World domination…” Yang said, a phrase usually reserved for humour and exaggerative characters for children’s shows now seemed all too accurate. It sent a chill down Yang’s spine.  
“So maybe the vagueness is better. I’m not one for secrecy and organisations hidden in shadow operating in a ‘Cloak and Dagger’ style, but pragmatism takes precedence.” 

“Okay, just one more questions since I want at least one definite answer that doesn’t lead my brain feeling like it’s been through another of Weiss’ lectures on punctuality…” Yang said, much to Weiss’ consternation and Silver’s humour; whom laughed enthusiastically.

“Sure, sure. Ask away.” 

“How do you become a Maiden?” Yang asked, and Silver’s eyes drifted down to the sleeping girl next to him. The look in his eyes was distant and troubled. 

“With the death of another Maiden…” Silver said, audibly, however quiet. 

“Silver!” Silver’s gloomy attitude and vague nature was snapped away from Viridian, looking wide-eyed as he found Red crashed on top of the table of their booth, giggling hysterically and slurring her words from her drunkenness. “Have you seen Linen, I’ve been looking for him for aaaaaaaaaaaaggggeessss….!” She moaned childishly.  
“I’m right here.” Linen rolled his eyes, calling from behind Red. “It’s been literally two minutes since I told her I was going to the bathroom quickly.” 

“Oh Dust, you’re _that_ drunk, aren’t you?” Silver moaned.

“Linen!” Red ignored the comments of her leader, either from the fact she didn’t care since he no longer offered her the information she needed or she was still lucid enough to know being ignored by her irritated him somewhat. By any event, Red threw herself around Linen, clinging to her muse and giggling still, her fingers climbing up her chest in a flirtatious manner. “Hey, babe, can I borrow your scroll?”

“Why? What happened to yours?” Linen asked, doing his upmost to ignore her pervasive flirting and bodily contact like that of a Saint. Yang had to personally admit that she found it impressive that with such a forwards and lustful partner that Linen was capable of such restraint. Although, in such a drunken state she equally argued it probably wouldn’t be all that enjoyable.

“Umm…I left it at home and I really want to take some photos to remember this really fun night with our new friends! Plus, we both know I’m not gonna remember anything once I wake up…” 

Linen exhaled deeply, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and handed Red the device in question, not before slightly withdrawing it as she went out to collect it “Promise me you won’t lose this? You know how valuable it is.” Red nodded, managing a moment of clarity to show she was aware of the consequences. “Okay then.” Linen said, before finally surrendering the phone to his lover, who untangled herself from him.

“You have an interesting team.” Yang said, through a smirk.

“Oh yeah, you’re one too talk. The child prodigy leader, the Heiress of the largest company in all of Remnant, the former second on command of the paramilitary force who opposed that company, and the adrenaline junky older sister of that leader. Yeah, you guys are the poster girls of ‘normality’ all-right.” Silver quipped back.

“Speaking of which…where’s Blake and Ruby? What’s taking them so long?” Yang said, worry creeping into her voice. Linen nodded back, acknowledging the passage of time since Blake’s disappearance to retrieve Ruby.

“Yeah, I don’t like it. No conversation, no matter how angsty, shouldn’t take this long. Wanna check it out?” Silver asked, and Yang nodded her affirmation. Yang lent over and gave Weiss a soft kiss on the cheek, finally leaving her side to stand by Silver.

“Sorry, Weissicle, gotta check on Rubes quick. You gonna be okay?” Yang and Weiss raised her glass of white wine, a drink that Yang considered to perfectly encapsulate everything elegant and colourful there was about Weiss, before elegantly sipping from it.

“Yang, I’m so relaxed right now I don’t even mind you just kissed me in public.” Weiss smiled somewhat, still blushing, perhaps even more so than she had been previously.

“Try not to get too relaxed, Princess, or you’ll be waking up with a killer headache.” Yang warned and Weiss appeared sceptical of the idea, snorting and looking incredulously at Yang.

“I’m not that much of a drunkard, Xiao-Long…” Weiss hiccupped between her words and then in the most unladylike thing somebody as high-born as Weiss could do, she burped. The shocked expression written across her face and the troubled look of Yang barely able to contain her laughter at the sheer irony of the corresponding events helped to finally bring some doubt into Weiss’ statement, before the heiress reluctantly lowered her drink to the table. “Maybe I should slow down…” Weiss said embarrassedly, keeping her eyes fixated on her hands residing on top of her lap, fiddling with each-other, as she tried to avoid the mixture of either shock or humour everyone was no doubt finding in her. 

“You guys acting all mushy is sweet and all,” Silver began “But we should go and find your sister and partner ASAP.” Yang raised her eyebrows, smiling widely in combination with the obvious surprise she was having no part in obscuring in the slightest.

“What’s that, Silver? Is someone worried about Blake and Ruby?” Yang teased, bumping shoulders with the Faunus “It’s okay, I know a chivalrous guy like yourself loves to worry over pretty ladies.”

“I’m always worried about anybody who has to live in the same room as you, Yang. Must be maddening.” Silver shot back, giving Yang a quick wink before he spun on his heels and gestured for Yang to follow after him. He turned half-way around to address the remaining friends who were still located nearby, regarding them with a cautious authority “Everyone else stay here, no need to cause a commotion…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading the latest chapter!
> 
> Okay, first off I want to semi-apologise for the month-long hiatus. Only partly because I've had exams to focus on in that time and I couldn't really help that I've had no time for writing, though I've had plenty of time for planning and thinking so the next few chapters have been ludicrously planned out. However, I've now finished my exams and I'm totally free. So hopefully back to proper updates and writing for me.
> 
> Anyway, on to the chapter. I've split this into two chapters for pacing reasons. So if it feels like not much has happened, it's because it's being saved for the next chapter. I've laced some subtle/not-so-subtle hints as to what will happen. So you may have noticed them or not. Who's to say?
> 
> Anyway, Lucian has a personal vendetta out against Blake for corrupting Adam's mind and distracting him from his goal of overthrowing humanity. Of course his closest allies and students would see him as a Saint amongst Faunus, as Blake previously alluded to in conversations about him. He basically fufills the same role as Adam would, and as a character he won't differentiate much from him. The only major difference is he represents more of the zombified/hypnotised youthful regiment of the White Fang that have been created under Adam and are not just extremist but completely unrepentant in their belief. He acts as a face for that, and someone I can more personally invest in them Adam as a character since he is my own. Plus Adam's death will obviously better play into his motivations and Blake's development.
> 
> Oh yeah, and Blake knows of The White Fang's plans. Lucian's very arrogant to give her that information, assuming it won't do her any good. Hubris. Never done a man any good.
> 
> Other than that: Yang knows a little more (emphasis on little) about the Maidens and Viridian. I'm being careful about exploring the Maiden's just yet, since its so vague in the show at the moment. I know Monty only came up with the idea after Season 2, so it was kinda shoe-horned in and lacks its own development so I want it to be dealt with slowly until I can come up with an interpretation that works well with where I want the story to go.
> 
> Oh Silver, you think just by you and Yang going that there won't be a commotion. Such a naive boy you are.


	23. Paint the Town Red and Black- Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Ruby continue their confrontation with Lucian and the White Fang.

Lucian continued his methodical advance towards both Ruby and Blake, his newly acquired limb still tensing, curling his digits as if brand new in an attempt to break them in and get a proper understanding on their capabilities when compared to that of his regular human limbs.

From what Blake could perceive, there was a noticeable variation from that of the typically expected movements of a flesh-and-blood hand and limb. They were subtle, something that an ordinary person in a stressful, heart-palpitating scenario wouldn’t have the concentration or wherewithal to notice. But Blake was a Faunus, her eyes shone through the darkness of the late-night damp alleyway like floodlight, everything dying itself a pale green, the outlines of Lucian and individual objects illuminating brightly in the same bright hue; casting out all shadows and darkness. What also helped to even the odds, was Blake’s training and service as a White Fang soldier. She was aware of Lucian’s tactics and movements. Knowing she could anticipate his attacks, if not entirely his character or intentions beyond a lust for revenge, as well as that he would suffer from reduced attacks speeds and litheness meant the naturally athletically gifted Raven-haired Faunus could take advantage of her foe. Perhaps being ambushed by Lucian, wouldn’t prove as terrifying or threatening to her very existence as Blake initially considered.

However, Blake was aware of Ruby’s presence by that tight and shaken grasp on the back of her dress. The grasp that begged Blake to protect her. The confused whimpers and weeps of a girl who forced her mind to enter into a region she never once considered might have existed. Ruby wasn’t nearly ready to fight. Not only was her mind not in the correct state to battle, but when combined with her drunken stupor and how this, along with her own ordinary human vision and only served to hamper Ruby’s already lacking skills of discerning remote details; it proved she would only slow Blake down. Blake realised even with her augmented sight united with her conditioned reflexes as well as adapt perception that relaying information to Ruby would only slow down their ability to operate in tandem.

Although Blake could hardly care less about Ruby’s drunkenness or human fallibility, there were few people she felt comfortable watching her back and fighting alongside her, let alone even desiring their company, and Ruby was on that list of select few; even with their confusing and now muddied relationship. But as of right now, she just wanted Ruby to be safe. This wasn’t like one of their many previous fights against grunts or street thugs where they could pull their punches and know they could get away with it due in part to their opposition not having unlocked their aura. Lucian was different, he not only had a semblance but a very dangerous aura that meant close-ranged combat was clearly a hazard to their health. Blake was aware that Lucian didn’t arrive to exchange pleasantries or a light sparring contest. This fight would end how all White Fang officers settled such ultimatums.

A battle to the death. And Blake couldn’t guarantee Ruby’s safety, not in her current state.

“Ruby…” Blake whispered, but knew how little good it would do with Lucian’s Bear-Faunus ears flickering to pick up on the low-level noise. Blake cursed internally, she was used to having a sensory advantage after hunting so many Grimm whilst using it, but subsequently she had become rather lax in fighting without taking advantage of her heightened perception in doing so. It had proven to be a double-edged sword, but at the very least she could trust Lucian also wouldn’t be able to use it on Blake. 

“I’m not going…” Ruby said, rather sternly and decisively. Blake was taken aback, not by Ruby’s terseness, but rather by her immediate understanding. Blake still wasn’t used to the idea Ruby had been growing so used and accustomed to Blake’s mannerisms that she could see ahead and understand what Blake had intended to say before even uttering a proper sentence. Was it so easy for Ruby to read Blake’s face by this point?

“You need to!” Blake retorted back “Go get Yang and Weiss, I can handle myself-!” Blake started before Lucian leapt forwards, striking with a closed-fist aimed for Blake’s throat. The Faunus was reflexive enough to raise the sword form of Gambol Shroud to block the brick-layered fist, albeit her feat only just managed to hold their footing from the extreme levels of force produced from the strike. If it wasn’t because of Gambol Shroud’s titanium alloy making up the blade itself in combination with what little aura she managed to produce in a protective layering around her hands and weapon, Blake could infer a lesser weapon or Huntress may have been snapped in half. 

Ruby jumped back, unsteadily, from shock at the rapid pounce performed by Lucian, that had no right to be so quick given the additional weight now attached to his arm. Blake was left to fend for herself in a test of strength with a clearly superior adversary in Lucian, whom with no effort managed to bring Blake down to a single knee by effortlessly pushing forwards with the same fist her had just struck with. 

Ruby couldn’t stand back and simply do nothing, watching Blake struggle as she was practically kept pinned to the ground by Lucian’s one hand was frightening. But even more than that, the thought that Blake was risking her very life whilst Ruby just stood back: the object of Blake’s chivalrous attempts of protection, was infuriating for the young Huntress. She had to do something. Anything. Just to buy Blake a precious few seconds or force Lucian to relent on his aggression. 

“I won’t let you hurt Blake! Let her go now! She hasn’t done anything to you!” Ruby knew it was childish, perhaps even facetious given the circumstances, but she wasn’t in the condition to fight. She would be tossed around like a rag doll, and she had left Crescent Rose back with Yang and Weiss having ignored the idea that she may have needed her weapon. True enough though, her theatrical call for an explanation proved to distract Lucian, whose eyes snapped over to the young girl. He held her with an idle curiosity, like he was only just made aware of her existence and even then, proved to care little. 

Without pause for thought, Lucian’s hand shot down to the belt carrying his White-Fang mask and dipped inside a holster, pulling out a loaded handgun and fired towards Ruby. The bullet pierced the young Brunette’s left shoulder, ripping through her flesh and snapping the bone in its way before exiting cleanly through the other side. Ruby gasped in horror, her right-hand snapping to the opposite limb out of instinct to stem the blood flow and concentrate her aura around the wound to nullify the effects of the bleeding and other internal injuries. She collapsed so quickly to her knees in shock that her hair trailed behind her, falling down in place only after Ruby had already landed and scraped her knees on the unforgiving pavement. For several pain-stricken seconds, Ruby forgot how to breathe, and when she remembered the movement of her shoulders in doing so elicited a flare of pain even worse then what she had previously been experiencing; which was none too pleasant by itself. 

“That’s pain.” Lucian said coldly, unsympathetically, in a matter-of-fact way. “That’s what we know. All we know. We lived by pain, came to accept pain, and then resented pain. We had pain and agony of a thousand different varieties forced upon us.” Lucian said, looking down towards Blake like she would conclude his point as she sat there; stunned at the cold-blooded way Lucian had harmed Ruby. “You don’t understand what it’s like for the Faunus. You can’t fight her battles. You think after a few semesters at some Monster-hunting academy built for clandestine reasons where you live alongside a Faunus you can empathise with our pain? Defend Blake as an equal?” Lucian spat derisively off to the side “Don’t make me laugh. Blake committed a cardinal sin to the White Fang: She abandoned our cause and sold us up the river to preserve the status quo. You have no idea of the implications that has had for the Faunus.”

In the ensuing period of time since Ruby’s timely distraction, despite her reservations of ignoring Ruby and not moving to check on her directly, Blake had been secretly building up as much of her aura as she could. Steadily she had been stockpiling and accumulating the manifestation of her soul until it was bursting at the seems like a great tidal wave ready to burst forward in a surge of power. She directed it to her hands, which were strained white against the grip of the handle of Gambol Shroud in its katana form. Blake understood even with this built up strength that the alcohol, as minor as it was, within her system had significantly lowered the maximum output her aura could outfit her physical strength. She would only be afforded the single opportunity she was being gifted, so there was no alternative available to her. She had to make the next attack count.

Blake let her aura explode outwards in a static flash of dark purple. Pushing forward, she shoved the crushing limb of Lucian off of her with a guttural cry, the weight of his limb still proving a difficult task to move, but a possible one. Lucian stumbled backwards a few paces, reeling back in shock from the chaotic blast of purple aura seemingly arriving from nowhere. In the chaos and confusion, Blake closed the distance she had created, aiming to attack the White Fang leader. She pointed the tip of her blade low to the ground, hovering just above the concrete below her and prepared to arc it upwards at an angle. The Bear-Faunus, however, countered by recovering and aiming his handgun at Blake. Blake altered the direction of her slash, using what little outfitted intensity in her muscles she had left to practically batt the weapon out of Lucian’s hand. He quickly responded with his concrete limb, swiping with an open hand at Blake’s head, but the Raven-haired warrior ducked it in a spin and slashed shallowly at his thigh. Lucian gasped, stumbling in pain as well as from his own forward momentum. Blake didn’t pass on the opportunity presented and went to stab Lucian through the centre of his back, although Lucian’s Faunus ears picked up on the breaking and parting air surrounding Blake’s weapon and he angled his body away; with Blake’s sword again only piercing his flesh shallowly by the side of his abdomen. With his flesh and bone arm he elbowed Blake in the gut whilst she was dealing with her blade caught in the ground, just about managing to tug it free as she faltered backwards herself.

Lucian stood back up, slightly hunched over from the lingering pain from his freshly cast wounds, one hand pressed tightly to his flank to stem the light flow of blood emanating from it. “Lucky shot…” He groaned, balling his artificial hand into a fist and struck out at the stationary Blake, hoping the cheap-shot would catch her unawares. However, his hand passed through her entirely, sinking and crashing into the wall behind her. A large section around three metres in width and six in height shattered from his blow. Lucian looked from side to side, desperate for any signs he had actually connected with her. “Always running…” Lucian smirked before grinding his teeth together in frustration.

“Ruby!” Blake shouted, running over to crouch next to Ruby, slinging one of her arms over her shoulders and lifted the Brunette, her left-hand side now caked in blood, onto her feet. “Come on, I’m gonna get you out of here…” Blake said quietly, regretfully, as if she blamed herself. 

“How…did you…?” Ruby began, somewhat weakly, although her aura was thankfully knitting the wound in her shoulder closed by this point. It was slow, arduous and Ruby had lost a significant amount of blood, but the damage was slowly being undone by her equally sluggishly returning aura from her night of drinking.

“Semblance.” Blake said, with a whimsical nature to her tone, quickly moving to open the fire exit door as Lucian had taken notice of them, rushing Ruby inside only to come face to face with the combo of Yang and Silver, both looking a mixture of shocked and concerned.

“WHAT IN THE FUCK BROKE THE DAMN WALL?!” Silver screamed, perplexed and yet marginally impressed by the immediate destruction, perhaps even slightly jealous he wasn’t capable of such an immediate feat of strength. 

Blake, aware of the consequences of what would happen if she didn’t continue her hasty retreat because of the immediate threat that was only metres behind them at most, shoved her way past Silver and Yang.

“We need to get out of here, now!” Blake informed the two of them, her grip on Ruby tightening as her fear for the younger girl’s safety ramped up along with the tension she was feeling at having Lucian still so close. 

“Blakey, what’s wrong? Why is Ruby bleeding?!” Yang said with an understandable level of concern for her younger sister, but still sounded unnaturally metred and restrained for the Blonde brawler, no doubt from the alcohol in her system. If anything, rather than being relaxed over the calmer deviation from Yang’s usual demeanour, Blake was hoping for the aggressive and strongly emotional response that had become the norm. Blake could do with a pair of shotgun gauntlets being fired in any potential assailant’s direction at the current conjuncture. 

“Oh shit…!” Silver shouted, and Blake looked back to see what had evoked his reaction, having expected to find Lucian, only to discover at least a dozen armed members of the White Fang stood in the newly fashioned entrance into the club. Silver jumped back, grabbing Blake and Yang by their shoulders. “Next stop: Not here!” Silver said as he activated his semblance, leaving the area the three of the them along with Ruby had been standing in with only a puff of smoke remaining. 

They manifested right in the small strip of space between the dance floor and their booth, a perplexed and worrisome Weiss rising from her seat as well as Linen also stumbling over as he struggled to carry an inebriated Red by propping her up against his side, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Put Ruby down on the booth with Viridian.” Silver ordered, and Blake nodded in agreement, laying Ruby down along the middle section of the semi-circular seating before sitting down next to her, moving to tend to her and make sure she was still lucid and aware of what was going on. Silver turned towards the bar and caught the gaze of a bewildered and increasingly irate Junior “Junior! Get all these people out of here, quickly! Would be bad press to have…seemingly innocent people die in your establishment!” Silver smirked sheepishly, knowing a good deal of the regular patrons probably had some kind of misdemeanour against their name at the least. Junior looked as if he was going to try and argue, but clearly settled for a pragmatic response, huffing in frustration.

“Just try to leave the place repairable…” He muttered, before informing his employees to either head for the exits or direct the panicked customers out of harm’s way. 

“Would somebody please tell me what is going on?!” Linen shouted in protest at the continuously escalating level of confusion and tension the current events were causing. 

“White Fang. Dunno why or how.” Silver responded before looking to Yang “We gotta deal with this. Think you can knock some heads?” Silver asked, and Yang responded by punching her fist into and open palm.

“Oh, you know it.” Yang said confidently, managing a small smile before she remembered her sister, looking over to see Blake talking in hushed tones to the brunette. Yang growled, her confident demeanour quickly souring in rage at the fact her younger sister was hurt. She felt considerably scared. How could she have let this happen to Ruby? How could Blake let this happen? Yang shook her head clear of those thoughts. She believed in Blake, she never had reason to doubt her. No matter what had happened, Yang knew Blake certainly had nothing to do with it and was innocent of any wrongdoing. She couldn’t blame herself for being paranoid though. She could still trace the blood droplets from the direction Blake had carried Ruby across the small space from where Silver had teleported them even in the dimly lit space of the club. She could feel her gut wrench and twist at the very thought of Ruby being subjected to that kind of pain. Whoever did this, Yang would make them pay, tenfold. 

Linen wandered over to Ruby after balancing Red against a support pillar for the floor above, huffing and complaining under his breath about the situation and the lack of information he had been supplied with. As a tactician in the sense he liked to formulate and plan stratagem prior to conflict, going in blind was something he wasn’t comfortable with; although he was somewhat use to it being under Silver’s command. Not to suggest that Silver charged in head-first, but he certainly liked direct action which usually scuttled any detailed plan formulated beforehand. 

“Let me check her.” The smallest member of SLVR said to Blake, his eyes completely focused on Ruby’s crimson-stained shoulder. Blake hesitantly shuffled to one side as Linen sat directly in front of Ruby’s injured shoulder, using the intermittent and frenetic lighting of the club for the time being as a light source. It certainly wasn’t an effective tool for inspection, but Linen had made do with less before. “Gunshot wound, side-arm. 9mm? No, possibly bigger, her aura’s already closing the wound. Good.” Linen looked up and saw Blake with a reasonably impressed expression, if marred by her streaked make-up from the rain and tears that had run down her face, respectively.

“H-How can you tell that just by looking?” Blake inquired.

Linen shrugged idly “As a mercenary group we got our fair share of wounds. I had to learn basic combat surgery and treatments. I’m not a combat medic, but I can diagnose injuries, causes and even suggest a few…rudimentary solutions.” Linen managed a confident smirk in Blake’s direction. “She’ll be fine, it’s a clean exit. Bullet passed straight through, no bone or muscular damage that her aura won’t heal, though she’s lost a fair bit of blood.” Blake’s hand wrapped around Linen’s own, giving him a small squeeze and mouthing her thanks silently. Linen turned towards his leader and locked eyes, turning far more serious as he realised his leader looked impatient, even worried. “What’s up? Need me for something?” Linen asked, looking determined, if slightly in over his head.

“You can take Red and get the hell out of here, for one.” Silver informed his friend, much to his consternation as he scowled, indignantly.

“What? No way in hell am I letting you guys stay here and fight while I run for cover! Not again!” 

“Linen, right now I don’t have a clue about what’s going on! What I don’t need on top of that is the thought of you getting caught in crossfire.” Linen looked down to the floor, feeling useless and cowardly. Silver reached out, placing his hand on his teammates shoulder. “You can’t fight.” Silver said, sympathetically, albeit the direct nature in which he addressed the point only added to Linen’s downtrodden feelings. “You solve problems with your head, not your fists. Besides, Red is too blitzed out of her mind to aim straight. She needs your help to get the both of you somewhere safe. Okay?” 

“Alright…” Linen said, defeatedly, having seen his leader’s logic. “You come back alive, okay?” Linen looked over to Yang as well as the rest of RWBY and JNPR. “All of you.” 

“Count on it.” Silver said, and with that Linen shouldered Red once more, helping her towards the exit as she mumbled unintelligibly to herself. 

“You care about him a lot, don’t you?” Yang asked, standing by Silver with a hand on her hip and a patronisingly omniscient smirk.

“Yeah, of course I do. He’s always had my back, even if he can’t fight to save his life. When we were kids he’d throw himself head first at anyone to protect me, Red and Viri. Not exactly what you’d expect from a child genius…” Silver chuckled quietly. “It’s my job to protect my family. So even if I have to be cruel about it, I won’t let him do that for me if it risks his health.” Silver’s eyes met with Yang’s own lavender set. “You understand that better than most.” 

Yang’s gaze slowly drifted to her younger sister, hands tightening into fists, her teeth sinking into her lip to try and release some of her pent of aggression and concern. “That’s true.”

“Protect your family, eh Silver?” Silver whipped his head around from Yang to look across the club from where the coalition of Huntsmen and women in training were stood to see several dozen member of the White Fang, armed to the teeth, headed by Lucian. They stood by the edge of the upper floor of the club, just in front of the staircase that led down to their section as well as the dance floor. “A novel idea. But I’m already two steps ahead of you.” Lucian smirked, his confidence spread like an infection through the small army stood around and behind him. Even when wearing their masks, with some having their hoods drawn over their hood to further hide their features, it was obvious to see just having their leader stood on the front line with them that the White Fang grunts clearly felt bolstered in their belief of a coming victory, like it was within physical reach. In a surreal and slightly cringe-inducing sensation Silver felt a respect for that. It wasn’t easy to have such a natural rapport with men and women under your command, especially with large numbers being involved. What you gain in strength in numbers you lose in personal connection, making it harder to rally men to your cause and understand their motivations. Having Lieutenants and officers with an organisational structure could provide a solution to the problem, albeit it carried its own issues. The fact that whether or not Lucian had these structures or solutions in place or not didn’t matter, it proved admirable he managed to illicit such a reaction from his men, whether or not they purely believed their numbers gave them an advantage. 

“There’s a few more than I expected…” Yang whispered to Silver.

“What? Getting cold feet just because there’s a few dozen of them? Being around Weiss must have that effect…” Silver felt a sharp jab in his arm from Yang playfully hitting him.

“I’m the only one who makes puns about my Weissicle.” Yang smirked back at him. “Anyway…” Yang continued “Thoughts on how we deal with this?” 

“Quickly, if at all possible.” Silver chewed on his lip. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” His voice fell a few more octaves, clearly indicating just how much a sudden and unexpected attack from the White Fang unsettled Silver. He shook his head from side to side, trying to rid himself from the apprehension in his thoughts. “Hey!” Silver shouted at Lucian, his aggressive tone banishing the smug and confident appearance of the White Fang leader away, replacing it with a dissatisfied and derisive stare. “Mind explaining how any of you are here? And not quaking in your boots for that matter?” Silver smirked, pointing to his own chest. “Unless you failed to catch the news, I killed your Messiah with my own two hands and sent you all with your metaphorical and sometimes literal tails between your legs. There shouldn’t be any White Fang here at all, so what gives?”

“That’s always been your problem, Silver: Mercy.” Lucian responded cryptically. 

“What the Hell does that mean?” Silver bit back. 

“You always seemed to value human life, so long as you weren’t contracted to directly kill a person. Even then, you regularly pushed your price higher than most for such a job. You won’t hesitate to kill a person, but you’ll look for any excuse to pass the buck onto someone else. That’s why that little bitch of yours is the psychotic one with enough blood on her hands to cover a small army, isn’t it?” Lucian said.

Silver’s fists, covered by his Claws of Fenrir, strained even more. Bone pressed against his flesh and peaked out, white against his skin. They trembled as his rage built to the surface, whatever façade of calmness against the storm of apprehension and confusion mixed along with curiosity was wiped away by a blinding rage. “Say one more word about Viridian, and I swear to Dust I will rip your heart straight out of your fucking chest and show it to you, you fucking cunt!” Silver made to dash forward, only to find Yang’s hand had already strongly latched onto his wrist, and refused to let go no matter how vehemently he attempted to pull away from her. He looked back to her with the intent to demand she let go and intimidate her. Maybe it was a foolish plan from the start, Yang was not easiest to startle and regularly used her emotion as a source of strength and perseverance rather than allowing it to dissuade her like it would for most. When he made eye contact with the brawler her iris’ were not their natural lilac, but a bloody crimson. 

“Don’t let him get to you. He’s trying to get in your head.” Yang pointed out the obvious, drawing a sceptical and softer expression than before. “You’re not the only one who wants to get payback.” Silver’s gaze moved over to Ruby, her chest pumping quicker in respiration than it naturally should have even in the dimly lit nightclub and he could see she was perspiring aggressively, her shoulder still caked in blood. Yang had done Silver a favour, stopping him from rushing into a suicidal confrontation from a provoking comment about his lover. His shoulders sagged, and he sighed; disappointed with his own stupidity. Yang, the resident hot-head, managed to control herself even when her own sister had been injured. She had much better reason to fly into an unforgiving rage, but despite that she was managing to harness her semblance and keep it under control. It was embarrassing, but also telling how Yang was putting the needs of the group ahead of her own selfishness, and Silver needed to do that too. 

“Sorry…” He apologised sheepishly, and slowly Yang’s eyes morphed back into lilac and she released her grip on the Wolf-Faunus. Silver slowly returned his gaze back to Lucian, brushing a few locks of his hair back behind his ear and took a final breath to recompose himself. “Tensions between us aside, why does it matter if I avoided contract killing specifically? And how do you know about that?”

Lucian chuckled “Typical. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t remember, and I don’t blame you honestly. Adam Taurus was my mentor, an inspiration to all of us in the White Fang; but I was his star pupil. I’m sure he reached the same conclusion that I did: That I was better suited for his role than he was. But never mind that, we’re talking about you: Silver Aloi.” Lucian spat the name like it was a horrible combination of bitter and sour. “You see,” he continued “Master Taurus saw my potential and trained me himself. I followed him on trips to meetings with our benefactors and summits with the other leaders of the White Fang Chapters so I may learn the political game when I assumed leadership of my own chapter. Once or twice, I was present when Master Taurus negotiated with you and informed you of your missions. I always found it intriguing why a Faunus who would gladly accept missions for the White Fang never actually joined our ranks.” Lucian explained.

“I only accepted those missions when I believed it would help the people on the ground more than your cause. What the White Fang has become under Adam is sickening and perverted, and I doubt you’ll be any different…” Silver responded, his voice dripping with condemnation. “So, you were a lowly grunt earmarked by Adam to be something special? So, what? Doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Try to justify what you did however you want. I wonder if all those men and women you killed would absolve you of your sins and forgive you if they learnt you were trying to help some disenfranchised Faunus? I wonder if...those orphans feel aggrieved by the fact an orphan made them suffer the pain of losing their parents?”

“Dust, you’re really getting on my nerves…” Silver muttered under his breath.

“Regardless, the reason we’re here as of this moment is because our benefactors require it of us. But to be completely honest, whether they asked it of us or not would be irrelevant.” Lucian brushed the point off, showing how little he apparently cared for those above him. The very aura he gave off seemed like one who cared more for himself and his own goals than a glorified chain of command. No doubt his zealot-like faith in the White Fang mantra and Adam Taurus’ goal was a better source of motivation than that of a benefactor, or so Silver considered anyway. 

“And why is that?” Silver asked.

“Vengeance. On you, specifically. I was one of the many soldiers still loyal to Adam after your bitch slaughtered us at the Attack on Beacon. I saw you kill our leader, a man I considered like Father to myself…” Lucian’s gaze from above had already been dismissive and holier-than-thou from the moment he had laid eyes on the combination of SLVR, RWBY and JNPR, but now it grew into a far more unrefined anger. Silver chuckled to himself at the irony of how Lucian looked down at all of them, comparing how similar it was to all the wealthy and powerful humans who had done the same to the Faunus they considered worthless. It was almost humorous how the positioned changed, but the result remained exactly the same. “So, in response, I gathered the remaining members of our unit that you so graciously allowed to live and assumed command. Not before weeding out those who weren’t loyal and eliminating them. Personally, I want nothing more than to kill that whore who betrayed Adam and yourself. You’re the greatest forms of traitors to the Faunus in all of History. We must clean you from the bloodline, and your lowly human friends will follow you too.”

“That’s not going to happen, I’m afraid.” Pyrrha stepped out from behind Silver and Yang, joining the vanguard of the Beacon students. “Whatever reasons you have for your own brand of justice doesn’t matter to me. I won’t let you harm any of my friends.” The crimson haired Huntress gave Yang and Silver a nod of confidence before activating her semblance, Akouo and Milo springing to live and snapping into place in her grip and along her forearm.

Silver shrugged “You heard the lady. I don’t like your odds against the Vytal Tournament champion, personally.” He said smugly. One by one, barring the unconscious Ruby and the sleeping Viridian, each member of the three teams each gathered their weapons and stood shoulder to shoulder with each-other, forming and impressive and daunting front and last line against the dozens of armed White Fang members. They had lesser numbers, they had conceded the higher ground and they had already lost several members due to injury or retreat but more than anything they had their comradery and friendship; however tenuous and newly formed it may be.

“Don’t let me stop you. The thrill of the hunt isn’t capturing or killing your prey: It’s the pursuit. And I look forward to cutting each and every one of you down as you desperately try and avoid the inevi-” Lucian began before something tore through the air, landing just behind his own lines and exploding in a large pink detonation, violently shaking the foundations of the Nightclub and sending several White Fang members flying in an equal number of directions. Lucian brought both his arms up to shield himself by manifesting his aura along the limbs from any further incoming projectiles or debris. 

“Boring! Let’s fight already!” Nora piped up, bouncing on her feet with Mjolnir in its Grenade Launcher form smoking at the barrel from just being fired, the impatient Red-head clearly growing tired with what even Silver had to admit was a gratuitous level of back and forth that had been wearing on his nerves. 

Silver didn’t exactly see it as perhaps the most honourable declaration of war, but then again Lucian had injured before hostilities had technically started, so it wasn’t as if the exchange wasn’t warranted. Furthermore, if it was war the White Fang wanted; whatever they wanted, Silver was not only happy to stoop to their own levels but also fight dirtier if need be. He exemplified this mindset by activating his Claws of Fenrir, the gloves lining filling up with red Dust and began to glow a powerfully bright crimson. He slammed his hand in an open palmed strike in the direction of the confused gaggle of enemies still in disarray from Nora’s opening burst. His hand quickly raised in temperature, smoke wafting from the edges of his attired weapon before a blast of fire erupted from the Claws of Fenrir and shot towards his targets, exploding and launching even more of the White Fang soldiers into the air, some being sent so far as to smash into the nearest walls and either imprint their body shape or leave large spiralling cracks leading as far as the ceiling. Silver shook off the residual heat bothering his hand. The Claws of Fenrir were better at close range, as they suited his fighting style of mixed martial arts combined with his preference of grapple and throw-based wrestling. Be it as it may, they were still capable of ranged combat, but they were neither effective nor efficient in the means of hitting a target as the firing sequence by definition telegraphed the incoming attack. Although, thanks to Nora’s timely and sudden intervention, it allowed Silver the opportunity to use the weaponry effectively and get a well-placed hit off. Silver would be the first to admit that the weapons were not well designed to counter any ranged engagement and they had significant flaws in their design and firing mechanism, he wasn’t the skilled engineer that Ruby Rose was and he lacked the raw intelligence of Linen or Viridian’s semblance to construct almost any object she desired. Linen had offered to upgrade or design something better, but Silver passed on the offer every time. He had a strange emotional attachment to his weapons, he supposed deep down it was because they emphasised a strong character trait and principle he had: That he fought with his own two hands to protect those he loved and defeat those who would do them harm. It was sickeningly sweet and poetic. But it fit him. A rough and flawed exterior hiding a gentler and selfless core. 

“So, uh…” Jaune began as the Beacon students held their line, mostly shifting their weights back and forth while the White Fang slowly began the gauge they had been attacked and regrouped atop the second floor. “Are we gonna take advantage of them while we can?”

“No.” Pyrrha answered, raising her shield just a little higher so it left only whatever was above her chin uncovered. She looked over to the Wolf-Faunus, who was studiously analysing the White Fang. “You have something up your sleeve?” She asked with an erect eyebrow.

“Not exactly…” Silver admitted. “It’s basic tactical knowledge. The smaller force should never advance. If you tried it, you’d likely be surrounded and attacked from every conceivable angle. It’d be suicide to try, unless you could use the terrain to your advantage. Unfortunately, we don’t have the high ground and the nightclub is too enclosed for a smaller force to spread themselves out and divide and conquer. Instead, what we want to do is keep the distance for as long as possible and make the larger army work for every inch of ground they cover whilst widdling their lines down by any means necessary. Charging would be counter-productive, as exposed as they are right now.” Silver explained.

“I thought as much.” Pyrrha responded, keeping her shield high. “It doesn’t seem right, however, to not meet them as equals.” 

“Nobody won a war by being fair and just. Not on the battlefield, anyway. War is dirty, and so are the actions taken…” Silver said, almost cruelly, though there was palpable regret is in voice. “Feel free to pick them off as you want, the less of them to contend with when they get down here, the better.”

Pyrrha was hesitant, but she knew better than to be overly altruistic about their current predicament. It was to her own detriment she could be too kind and hesitant to actually hurt another person, but she had to be reasonable. Silver may have been a rough character with a warped sense of pragmatism born from what must have been a kind personality chipped away at by racism, prejudice and exposure to things Pyrrha could hardly read about without feeling nauseous, but he was right about what they had to do. The White Fang had already gravely hurt Ruby and there was serious intent to do the same, if not worse, to Blake. Pyrrha couldn’t allow that. She activated her semblance to recall Akouo onto her back and then folded out Milo whilst simultaneously kneeling down to steady herself and her aim. She understood based on stories of team RWBY’s engagements with the White Fang that the bulk of the Faunus paramilitary outfit was comprised of Faunus who had yet to unlock their auras and were therefore susceptible to fatal injury if she wasn’t careful about where she was aiming. Battle for their lives or not, Pyrrha didn’t want to cause them more harm than necessary and certainly didn’t want death on her conscience. She carefully targeted ankles and thighs along with shoulders. She made sure every shot avoided a vital area and wouldn’t leave lasting damage. With swift and unflinching efficiency, she snapped from target to target, unloading round after round and leaving several of them crying out from the ground below them as their hands shot to their wounded areas. Pyrrha realised however that as effective as she was, that the White Fang had stepped up their recovery efforts in order to counter her precision sniping and were quickly closing in, firing their own weaponry; rifles and submachine guns in retaliation.

“Scatter!” Silver regretfully informed his allies as he barely dodged a hail of gunfire thanks to his teleportation. He hadn’t exactly been capable of judging where he was transporting himself due to it being a spur of the moment decision, finding himself prone across the dance floor on his side after manifesting mid-air above it and landing on his ribs, which still proved to be rather sore from his fights with Yang. 

He looked over the battlefield to survey what was currently going on. He found Yang with two enemies either side of her. She launched forward in a swift strike, connecting with the Faunus in front of her square in his chest. He buckled over and almost omnisciently, she activated Ember Celica from the arm that had punched him to propel herself backwards and perform an elbow strike to the nose of the Faunus behind her; whom was preparing to bring down a machete atop her head. It was obvious from her expression she was finding it cathartic to pummel on some opponents that barely posed a threat to the Blonde brawler, having your sister harmed by them obviously left her with some issues that needed working out. 

Meanwhile, Pyrrha was practically pinballing form enemy to enemy. She raised her shield to block from a large coyote-Faunus towering over her in height and in muscle mass. She allowed herself to be punched across her shield for momentum’s sake, slamming back first into a regular-sized grunt and transferring the kinetic energy over to him, carrying him across the room and smashing hard into a wall. Pyrrha then used her remaining momentum to twirl in mid-air and slash at another Faunus, cutting him shallowly across the leg and in doing so made them drop their weapon in pain. Pyrrha landed in a crouch and then followed that up by standing up and kicking the injured leg out from under her opponent, finally slamming her shield into their head and knocking them out as they collapsed in a heap. 

Elsewhere everything appeared to be going exceedingly well. Ren and Nora were as expected working in perfect tandem: Strength and Agility; wild and unpredictable brutality combined with patient and calculated offense. Even Jaune was finding himself capable of beating back several of the Faunus his own size quite easily despite his lack of refinement. He was probably benefitting from the large pools of aura that were his own whereas the White Fang had none, but there was clear improvement from the young man who Silver was told had no place in a Huntsmen academy. It was going well, the momentum and tide of the battle had swung so strongly in their favour it was practically decisive, with little room left for the White Fang to mount any form of turnaround. 

It was then that Silver saw Blake was struggling. She was favouring her arms and stomach, her breaths laboured and inconsistent. In addition, every opportunity she created the slightest distance her own attention was towards Ruby and how close she was to the younger girl. She seemed caught in two minds as whether to stick close to Ruby in order to protect her from a stray bullet or the encroaching battle, or move further away in hopes of concealing her existence. Unlike every other combatant on her side, Blake had barely defeated a single White Fang soldier, and even when she did it came at great expense of what little energy she had left. She was struck over the head by a Faunus who pistol-whipped her when she presented an opening when moving to grasp the arm holding Gambol shroud, splitting her forehead open. Fortunately, a certain ivory-haired heiress appeared on a runway of glyphs to strike the surrounding assailants with quick and clean slashes from her rapier, coating segments of their bodies in ice for the length of each attack, and managed to provide Blake with a moment of respite. 

It appeared a foregone conclusion even with Blake’s inability to engage the enemy thanks to the skill and awareness of everyone in their group. Silver even found himself chuckling slightly, bringing himself up onto a knee. He felt assured of victory, until he felt the soft click of a pistol against his skull. His vision ventured to his flank and saw the singed, but very much unharmed figure of Lucian.

“Hello there, Silver. May I have this dance?” Silver sneered at Lucian's mockery and activated his semblance before Lucian’s gun managed to fire, the bullet only managing to part the cloud of smoke left in Silver’s wake. “Darn, that’s another that got away.” He jested sarcastically before turning to see Silver crouched by the edge of the dancefloor, rising to stand and quickly adopt a fighting stance with his typical open-palms spread wide from his body. Lucian shrugged to himself before lowering his weapon, confusing Silver somewhat. “We don’t have to do this, Aloi. As much as I hate you for killing Adam, you also helped me get a promotion and to my deserved position in the White Fang. That’s deserves some mercy, at the least.”

“Ha…hahahaha…!” Silver found himself uncontrollably laughing, doubling over and putting his hands over his knees to steady himself. “Seriously? Seriously?! Trying to back out now? You’ve got some nerve…” 

“Fine then, but don’t say I didn’t give you an out, Silver…” Lucian’s hand tightened around the metalwork of his gun, his skin shifting and being replaced by the metal of his weapon. To display just what this implied, he crushed the handgun like it was made of porcelain. Silver couldn’t hide his concern and shock at the sudden change in both make-up of Lucian’s skin as well as the destructive capabilities it carried, flinching at the action. 

Silver’s right hand balled into a fist, deciding that with a limb so powerful as the one Lucian now had it wouldn’t be practical to grapple or suplex the man due to the added strength and weight of Lucian’s frame. He would have to divert to traditional striking and either try to hit him hard and fast and seek a quick knock-out or use his now lighter-frame. It wasn’t how Silver wanted to conduct this fight, striking was an all-out offensive tactic that employed little in terms of avoidance or counter-attacks and posed absolutely no defensive tactics that would prove effective against such a strong limb. He would have to rely on speed, his semblance and using the Claws of Fenrir as much as possible. Although, since the Claws of Fenrir required time to activate it would be to his own detriment to rely heavily on them too since it would leave him open to being attacked. Silver really didn’t like the handicap being imposed on him, biting down on his lip as he scowled. 

“Scared?” Lucian smirked. Silver was aware he was being goaded, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t focusing on battle mentality, purely how to fight his opponent. The Wolf-Faunus proved he could be quite susceptible to psychological warfare, being overly sensitive to prodding such as this.

“Like hell!” Silver screamed, rushing and teleporting to close the distance, varying up his usage of semblance from switching from Lucian’s right to his left to try and keep him guessing, before arriving right in front of him and his smug expression. Silver went to throw a straight right arcing from the side. He wanted to knock Lucian out with one punch and prove just how much of a cocky upstart this guy was. He wanted to prove he was stronger and prove that nobody could stand above him when family was involved. He wasn’t focusing on his surroundings, and Lucian’s metal hand snapped up at lightning-quick speed, engulfing his hand and crushing it mercilessly. Silver’s eyes dilated, and his jaw hung loose. He made a wheezing gasp of shock and pain, collapsing down to his knees as Lucian kept his grip held tight firmly, suspending Silver’s arm above his head. Silver could hear his bones snapping, feel his fingers contorting and wrapping around each-other in knots. Blood trickles down his own arm and surfaced through the gaps of Lucian’s hand. Silver felt his entire mind go blank-white from the pain. He couldn’t feel anything or think about anything but the blinding pain. He nearly blacked out once or twice, his head fell limp so he was staring at the floor. The pain was so all-encompassing that breathing was relegated to a secondary bodily function behind croaking and coughing in agony. 

“You’re a disappointment, Silver.” Lucian mocked him, though the words were barely a buzz in Silver’s ear. “You’re an untrained beast, emotional, unrefined and lacking in direction. You could have been so much more. If you ask me, it’s that human you care so much for…what’s her name?” Lucian pondered.

“V-Viridian…” Silver mumbled quietly.

“Oh of course, Viridian…” He said the name decisively, as if it was trash that sullied his mouth by merely being spoken. “You became ensnared by her. Forgot what mattered because of her. You’re just being used. Faunus should fight only for Faunus. Not the despicable humans who cast chains upon our necks.”

“V-Viridian…” Silver said, no longer a mumble but still feeble and weak. 

“You’ve been distracted too long. You’ve adopted the worst of humanity: Uncontrolled and destructive emotional slavery, all because you have some strange fetish for a human girl. One, who might I add, isn’t stable enough to love you. Even if she was, she wouldn’t. She’s using you. Can’t you see that?” Lucian preached, trying to break through to Silver. But it was obvious the pain had eroded any comprehension Silver was capable of, mumbling her name louder and louder each time. “Such a shame. You along with Adam could have achieved what we needed: A Faunus utopia. Strictly Faunus, of course. But now you’re caught it that idealistic fantasy that Belladonna is caught up in. Equality. What a joke…” Lucian shook his head.

Silver bit his lip tight, drawing blood and finally feeling a sensation that wasn’t the sickening pain coming from his hand. He slowly drew his head up to stare Lucian directly in the eyes, rage and agony pouring from every twitching inch. “VIRIDIAN!” Silver screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but here is the latest chapter, left on a cliff-hanger because I thought it better to cut increase the number of individual chapters for this segment but cut them down in length, otherwise this one alone would have been over 10,000 words and that's just a bit much. Plus the pacing feels a little better this way.
> 
> Anyway, onto the synopsis.
> 
> Poor Ruby and Blake, just as it seemed they were making progress together not only does Lucian ruin it, but he hurt Ruby. What a villain. Luckily Yang is enough of a big sister to sense something was up and came to Blake and Ruby's aid with Silver. 
> 
> Linen's role in SLVR is emphasised as their non-combatant, being the one who is sent to run for cover and act seemingly like a coward whilst everyone else fights. No doubt he feels conflicted and ashamed, but the always pragmatic and protective Silver would rather keep him alive to overcome his problems than needlessly dying on the battlefield and distracting Silver. Obviously Silver's heart is in the right place, but it's hard not to feel for Linen. 
> 
> Yang managing to control her semblance and anger whilst calming Silver down is a throwback to the initial conflict between Yang and Weiss. It's evidence she's grown and is becoming more aware of her own flaws and finding a way to overcome that.
> 
> JNPR don't get much action in this story, and that's partly my fault not having much for them to do plot-wise, but I like to stick in chaotic-neutral-explosion-loving Nora whenever possible for both comic relief and as a Deus Ex Machina. Makes me smile, at the least. 
> 
> Ouch. Silver had his hand crushed by Lucian and then suffered the typical villainous monologue. Implications of this are scary of course, since Silver primarily fights using his hands. Okay, entirely fights with his hands. What impact will this have on him? Or Ruby's injury for that matter? As we've seen, aura can do wonders and bring a person back from the brink of death, but in the immediate sense Ruby and Silver are out of commission. Or so we'd assume.
> 
> Chekhov's gun. Viridian was mentioned repeatedly. Why? Because she's Silver's ace in the hole. She's the muscle, after all.


	24. Paint the Town Red and Black- Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viridian awaken's, and the embodiment of Summer burns through her opposition; The Fang sinks into its prey.

Viridian sat bolt upright, her unconscious slumber being interrupted by a pavlovian response to what she was certain had to be Silver’s voice. She was thankful for the awakening, albeit rude given the context she was trying to recover from the fatigue that had taken from the night’s activities, due in part to the almost constant nightmares she experienced. Whether they were a direct source of her childhood trauma, her mental instability or perhaps some karmic punishment for her misdeeds; she wasn’t sure. Moreover, it was a pleasant realisation to know something vaguely Silver-ish in tone had shaken from the grasps of those dark images and outlines shunting, mocking, insulting and condemning her relentlessly. 

Regardless, Viridian was still essentially recovering the full capabilities of her physical and mental faculties such as her sight and hearing. Her eyes were still glazed from her slumber, sleep-dust tucked in the corner of her eyes and her hair was a frazzled mess from not yet having the opportunity to brush it. Or more accurately, having Red brush it. She brushed the back of her hand at her tired and heavy eyes, whimpering weakly as the sensation of her tired and lethargic muscles were registered by her nerves and brain respectively.

After a few brief seconds, a buzz started being filtered through Viridian’s ears. A very familiar buzz. One she had become intimately accustom to. The sound of gunfire. It was accompanied by the guttural cries of combat and the shouts of tactical knowledge being passed from officers to their subordinates. A stray bullet ricocheted a few inches away from Viridian along the wall behind her; causing her attention and conscious mind to become crystalized from its groggy state. She flinched and gasped, finally registering the ensuing battle going on only mere metres away from her in practically every conceivable direction. Her breathing hitched and soon sped up, her chest feeling tight from the immediate anxiety of waking up in the midst of a bloody conflict. 

She shifted her gaze from side to side, analysing and dissecting what the hell was exactly going on. She wasn’t particularly expecting to awaken to an ensuing fight after being promised a peaceful night out with newfound friends, not that she didn’t welcome a chance to eviscerate anyone who gave her an excuse, but some warning would have been nice. Immediately she recognised that this battle was, for better or worse, one that included her and forced her personal investment into it due to the realisation that it was her fellow Beacon Students fighting the White Fang; the uniforms being a dead giveaway. She noticed a bloodied and tired Blake being protected by a pirouetting and contorting Weiss: whom was freezing and incapacitating her opponents with the combination of her semblance and Myrtenaster’s ice-based dust cartridges. She saw Yang bouncing from foe to foe with a practically…well, Viridian-like glee in the way she quickly and efficiently disposed of each enemy with Ember Celica. JNPR were also coordinating team attacks with Jaune operating as the on-site tactician, Pyrrha remaining shoulder-to-shoulder with him so he was protected and could focus on his job without worrying about making sure he had to fight off anyone who would do him harm. 

Viridian wasn’t exactly sure how the battle was going, it seemed as if their coalition was mostly dispatching any Faunus stupid enough to think even with superior numbers they could defeat an organised Huntsmen team, let alone three. Viridian then couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in her gut. Where was Linen? Red? And Silver? She couldn’t find any of them at all, and that worried her immensely.  
She took the decision to stand out from her make-shift cover of the booth they had been drinking in, and scanned quickly for any signs of her family, but nothing came to light, especially so because of the intermittent and blaring soundtrack being played by the loudspeakers under the presupposition it would be used for patrons of the club to dance to. Viridian cursed the fact that unlike Silver or Red she wasn’t a Faunus and therefore lacked the perfect clarity in the dark and to pick up on the most innocuous of sounds amongst the blaring sounds and attacks on her ears. Be that as it may she was left with no choice to either search through the club and find any signs of her team, as difficult as that would prove to be considering she would probably be attacked on sight and that she would also have to deal with the handicap of impaired sight, or join in the battle and help end it as soon as possible in hopes either team RWBY or JNPR could inform her where her own team was. 

“VIRIDIAN!” A blood curdling and agony induced scream echoed from the dance-floor, just outside of Viridian’s own eyesight. She couldn’t be sure, the scream was so distorted and riddled with suffering that it sounded morphed beyond natural, but it sounded like Silver to her. Viridian knew she couldn’t take the chance that it wasn’t him, Silver rarely resorted to calling upon her unless it was serious. Deadly serious. She didn’t waste a second by beginning a mad dash in the way of the dancefloor in order to reach the scream’s source. A White Fang soldier moved to block her, obviously making the connection that she was the person being called for and he had to do everything in his power to prevent her from reaching her destination. 

The obstacle, that’s all he was to Viridian; a worthless obstacle only attempting to delay her arrival, raised his rifle and fired at the Raven and Blonde-Haired Maiden. Viridian raised the hand up she had previously injured at the hands of Adam Taurus to block the path of bullet barrelling towards her to prevent it doing more damage to somewhere more significant. She bolstered it by directing her aura ahead of her palm. She could accept her hand being harmed again, it didn’t mean anything. What she couldn’t accept, however, was the outcome of Silver being hurt by her own failure to get to him in time and by being distracted by obstacles like this. Pain was another obstacle, one she wouldn’t allow to dissuade Viridian from her goal. 

The bullet ripped through the centre of her palm like just before, blood exploding from within and coating her own arm, but her aura prevented the bullet from travelling onwards and it simply fell harmlessly to the ground below, splattered with her blood. With that very hand, Viridian drew it back with a new and more densely coated aura, and launched an outfitted punch straight to the side of the face of the obstacle and sent him hurtling backwards into the staircase leading up to the second floor of the nightclub: leaving a Faunus shaped hole after he flew straight through it. Viridian’s face, splattered with her own blood, contorted into a wide manic smile across her face. It felt good to work out anxiety through violence and pain. She could feel the voices inside her head cheer in unison at the shared carnage she was dishing out.

_**“YES! YES! More! Hurt them more!”** _

_****_

_****_

_**“Bleed them! Decapitate them! Make them pay!”** _

****

**_“They deserve it! You deserve it! HURT THEM!”_ **

They shrieked and roared insistently from within like a distorted and chaotic symphony of dark and reverberating drumbeats. Viridian cursed under her own breath, doing her best to strike down any obstacle that was either foolhardy, arrogant, brave or simply idiotic enough to try and prevent the rampaging force of nature hurtling towards them like a runaway freight train that was Viridian Aurora from reaching her lover.

With terrifying bursts, of Green and purple aura mixed together, emanating from Viridian’s body anyone who tried to challenge and prevent the Maiden from reaching her objective was either completely obliterated from existence or sent flying and generally not left in a much more suitable condition. 

Her aura, continuously shifting towards the dark amethyst shade of her rare and marvellous powers, spread and replaced the natural emerald manifestation of her soul like an infection. It spread, becoming thicker and darker as her mind slowly rotted away, relegated to her base instincts, animalistic in nature. She allowed her consciousness and lucidity to wither and fade into the recesses of her mind; being replaced by her killing instinct and death-obsessed insanity. It was as if the power buried deep down inside of herself was the catalyst for that very shift in persona, but also acted as a warning to everyone around her. The greater the proportion of her Maiden’s aura that swirled like a cyclone around her, the more her power appeared to jump in scale. Although, Viridian slowly gained a semblance of control. It was a difficult internal struggle, overcoming one’s demons and mental instabilities through sheer force of will alone especially when in the thick of concern for an individual she deeply cared for was not an easy task. However, she understood the dangers posed by letting her mental frailties get the better of her and allow them to leave her in a situation where she couldn’t tell friend from foe.

In the few sessions she had with Ozpin in the weeks since coming to Beacon Academy, he had made it strikingly clear just how much of a gift her powers were. A power with a heavy weight that couldn’t be mismanaged or allowed to explode wildly. She had to learn self-control, or else everything Silver had been building and working to obtain for Viridian’s sake would be ruined. 

She couldn’t allow that. Viridian never had a sense of purpose, only the love she felt for the young boy-turned-man whom had saved her life so many times. Who had called her pretty on their first encounter. The boy who never let anyone judge her, and never once appeared afraid of her. He was extraordinarily different to everyone else. And she loved him for it.

Viridian wouldn’t fail him, not when it came to rescuing him and not when it came to controlling her powers.

At first her powers ran dangerously wild, throwing seating and bottles of alcohol around the room, some managing to connect with the heads of her foes (whether or not she had intended it was another matter entirely). Then her power became frightening, evolving into a torrent strong enough to whisk whomever she gestured at off their feet and direct them into wherever she deemed fit like they were utterly weightless with the most indifferent and blasé flicks of her digits. 

Eventually, the purple aura coalesced entirely, encapsulating and hugging her frame tightly; burning like the wisps of flames. It completely covered every inch of her frame, resembling some humanoid demon with barely a human characteristic that anybody could relate to or conflate with a person beyond those cold, dark and deadly fierce eyes. The ground around her burning aura of armour scorched and blackened, melting and liquidating around her like she was giving off the heat of the sun. 

Somehow, amidst the chaos and destruction, Viridian’s shell of aura thinned out. The phrase: Twice as bright, half as long was surprisingly apt for the situation as the absolute power appeared to burn itself out. However, instead of completely disappearing and becoming one with the aether, there were segments of burning aura coating portions of her body; resembling armour from a Medieval knight. A small portion burnt over her torso as well as cascading down her exposed limbs. Viridian took a shaky and uncertain step forwards, her body feeling tired and spent like she had been in the fight of her life; trying to pull her powers and her own mind under her own governance. But still, as inexperienced and amateurish as she was with the Maiden powers she so rarely used that she had never truly been capable of mastering, Viridian stood tall. 

Her head pounded from the clearly disappointed and brazenly offensive chanting that were the symptom of her mental disorders, her vision doubled for a brief moment, before correcting itself.

“N-Not now…can’t rest…” She sighed to herself, taking the moment in to focus on her breathing and make sure she wasn’t going to pass out. Thankfully, beyond a bought of dizziness from taming God-like powers from overrunning her own sense of control (or lack thereof) Viridian was more than capable of continuing; even if sitting down struck her as a most agreeable suggestion.

Finally, the Raven and Blonde-haired warrior adorned with flaming armour cast her gaze off to the side, where she saw a completely aghast and shaken Lucian. He looked like he had seen a ghost, or better yet, a demon. A personification of destruction, the epitome of obliteration. And now it was staring him back: Eye-to-eye. He only held the expression for a fraction of a second, but it was there and he knew she was aware he had been caught in a moment of weakness. Regardless, he managed to hold onto his grip of the wounded Silver, and only tightened the metal-vice clamping down on the Wolf-Faunus’ hand. 

Viridian’s eyes widened in concern as the barely conscious Silver cried out in agony. Her lip trembled in rage, she felt the fringes of her insanity encroach on her mind again, but pushed them off quickly; not letting them come close to claiming her. She couldn’t afford to let it happen. Silver was the one thing by itself that provided Viridian with the motivation alone to remain conscious of herself and reality. She steeled herself, and prepared to strike. She was fast enough, especially with her the deep pool of aura at her disposal. In all reality, she could shatter the sound barrier if she focused her aura into increasing her speed. She made a mental note to show that to Ruby later, it would either excite the girl or show her the crushing disparity between her own speed and that of a Maiden’s. In either case, it would provide Viridian with some fun.

“So, this is what you are when you’re focused? Driven? You’re impressive. Very impressive.” Lucian said, restoring some of his bravado after being lost for words after the display of power by Viridian only moments ago.

“Shut it.” Viridian snarled. “Give me back Silver, and I promise to make your death quick. Relatively.” Viridian scowled. Lucian chuckled and nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

“You want him? By all means, be my guest!” Lucian smirked sadistically and in one swift motion he lifted and tossed Silver by his crumpled hand. Silver’s shoulder dislocated from being so unnaturally twisted by the under-arm throw of Lucian, the bone snapping, twisting and popping in a gut-wrenching manner. Viridian’s own concern and disgust at the violent and sickening sound of her lover’s further injury distracted her from dodging the projectile Silver now assumed the role of. 

He crashed back-first into Viridian, knocking the two of them over and on top of each-other until Silver managed to roll himself off of her and onto his own back, biting down onto his lip until it became raw and bloody to supress his screams of pain. Viridian had dispelled her armour of flames in case they proved detrimental to Silver’s health, fire tended to have that effect no matter if it was natural or a result of semblance. 

Silver’s good limb instinctively shot over to clutch at the epicentre of pain in his shoulder. His breathing was even more ragged and inconsistent, but as Viridian sat up, she was only relieved he was out of the clutches of that bastard that had hurt him so.

“You okay?” She asked quietly, full of concern and worry.

“Oh yeah, just dandy…” he seethed. She looked down out of morbid curiosity to look at Silver’s hand and instantly regretted it. 

Viridian had seen many mangled and bloody corpses, created quite a few herself, but when it was Silver it was always different in how she reacted. Usually there was a feeling pride and release, like she had created a work of art only she could understand and enjoy. It didn’t usually matter if she did make it, it was still art that she could appreciate. But with Silver it was different. She hated it, loathed it, practically despised the very notion. She gasped and covered her mouth, eyes wide to see his middle finger was literally hanging by a thread of skin: bone poking through the torn flesh as blood flowed freely. 

“Sorry it’s not as pretty as you…” Silver chuckled weakly.

“I’m…” Viridian started, before having to swallow hard to force the bile rising in her throat out of disgust at Silver’s tortured hand, hot tears burning the fringes of her eyes. “I’m gonna tear that bastard apart…”

Silver started laughing, but it quickly descended into pained gagging and coughing and finally culminated in pathetic wheezing; her hero and valiant knight reduced to a broken and wretched victim of battle. 

“L-Language…” Silver smirked through his inconsistent and weak voice, broken up by coughs as he reprimanded Viridian like usual. 

“Sorry…” She faked a guilt expression, smiling down to her lover.

“N-Normally I’d ask you to reign it in a little, but,” Silver moved his gaze to meet Viridian’s own, cursing himself for being so foolish to be injured so severely that it was causing his lover to wear such an expression of grief and concern, tears stemming from her eyes and rolling down her plump and well-rounded cheeks. He moved his own, non-injured, hand over to hers and clasped around the back of it. “Fuck him up.”

Viridian didn’t need the order, nor did she require Silver’s support although it was appreciated, the Maiden was already determined to tear the White Fang’s leader limb from limb. It acted more like a trigger in her mind, gone was the social element drawing energy and concentration away from her battle instincts to converse with Silver after his statement ending their short discourse. Of course, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to grab him and flee, but no matter how one insulted or derided the Raven and blonde-haired girl be it with her insanity or sadistic tastes in harming people, she was no coward. Besides, even if Silver was in the middle of a war-zone at least Lucian would be preoccupied with her and could avoid combat for the time being. There was no point concerning over the matter, strategizing wasn’t her forte. 

She gave Silver an affirmative nod before rising onto her feet, aura sparking and burning around her as it spiralled around her body. With a click of her finger light began to erupt and shine from thin air, the bright white and green light filtering and bending into the shape of a thin-bladed sword with a cutlass’ handle. The light shattered and the blade, just like the one she had fought Adam with, landed in her right hand and she slashed the open space between herself and Lucian; the wind dyed with her aura being whipped up and screaming like it was a wounded animal. It was a purely aesthetic entrance and declaration of battle, but it was a psychological display. An exhibition of Viridian’s tremendous power. 

It appeared to have some effect, as Lucian scowled the way one would at something they truly found offensive. Perhaps it was disgust that a human, something he clearly considered depraved and lower down on evolutionary ladder than himself and the Faunus, would dare challenge him or go so far as to attempt to intimidate him; but it clearly affected him as his still flesh and blood hand’s digits tensed impatiently and anxiously. 

Viridian raised the tip of her intricately designed blade, with its many engravings of imagery synonymous with the season of Summer and pointed it in the direction of Lucian; her own face blank and expressionless with the sole focus of every available iota of energy being channelled to augmenting strength and defence. This was a battle she wanted to win, not enjoy.

“You really buy into your own hype, don’t you? Showing off so arrogantly with those parlour tricks.” Lucian responded to Viridian’s invitation for battle through bared teeth. 

Viridian raised her eyebrow, intrigued by the insult and the vague notion behind the concept of whatever Lucian meant by ‘Parlour tricks’. Was he, after all that she had shown with the melting of metal and flesh with aura alone, still sceptical of whether or not Viridian’s powers were divine? He witnessed, first-hand, her use the exact same powers back in Forever Fall when she fought Adam. Sure, some huntsmen and those whom had mastered their own semblances and weaponry greatly exceeded their contemporaries in strength and skill to a frightening degree, but a Maiden’s power in full-bloom made Master-Huntsmen’s skill seem like the bark of a puppy to the roar of Lion. Witnessing destruction on that scale was evidence enough to make a believer of anyone, even if the origins were from a Fairy-tale told to children.

“You don’t believe I’m a Maiden?” Viridian asked, lowering the point of her sword as she inquired. “Your boss is a Maiden now, right? How come you don’t think any of what I just did is real?” Viridian said, eluding to the knowledge Ozpin had passed on to her in their regularly scheduled meetings about the other current Maiden’s besides herself, specifically regarding the newest Autumn Maiden who stole the powers from the previous Autumn Maiden through confusing and synthetic means: Cinder Fall.

“They can believe whatever they want about magic, gods, Maiden’s or even Minotaur’s for all I care.” Lucian said dismissively before his voice dropped an octave, his deep crimson eyes shining in a dangerous and predatory glow. “I only care about the Faunus and exterminating every last one of your kind that enslaved mine for so long. Gods, Fairy-tales and ancient prophecies won’t achieve my goal.” 

Viridian crouched lower to the ground, ready to break into a sprint and reduce the distance to her prey. “You won’t live long enough to make that a reality.” 

Viridian said finally in a dark and murderous tone, before flashing over straight to Lucian, the distance being cute from 10 metres to barely one in a second, maximum. Lucian registered the shock fairly quickly, and impressively displayed that his quick reactions didn’t just stop at his expressiveness as he sidestepped from Viridian’s attempt to drive her sword straight through the centre of his thigh. The blade easily slid through the floor, Viridian struggling with her small frame to retrieve her sword from the tight grasp of the ground . Seeing the opportunity before him, Lucian responded to the Maiden’s aggression with a kick across her gut with his shin, winding the smaller fighter and forcing her to collapse onto her knees and splutter and cough violently, hands still resting on the blade’s hilt to keep herself upright.

Viridian heard amused low-level laughter coming from above as Lucian paced around her “I see. You used everything you had up to now killing my men and putting on that little light show with your aura. You’re not a God, a Maiden, or even a half-good warrior.” He spat down on the gasping girl’s head. “Just a two-bit con artist.”

Just then, Viridian began her own sickening, and yet bizarrely charming, brand of psychotic giggling, her shoulders bouncing up and down as her breathing continued to be laboured and deep. Lucian, disturbed by her seemingly masochistic appreciation for pain, grabbed a handful of her hair with his flesh and bone hand before lifting her face up to look at him.

“What the hell is so funny, you psychotic whore?!” He shouted at her, and Viridian replied with a fractured and insane smile, raising both of her hands to wrap around Lucian’s wrist.

“Got you, right where I wanted you.” Viridian bit down on her lip in an eager and thrilled expression with the situation, her hands clamping down on his appendage. Lucian struggled in his attempts to pull away, but found the smaller girl’s grip was far stronger than he had given her credit for. He had assumed based on her helplessness to pull a sword barely an inch and a half in width from the ground that she would be easy to toss around and manhandle, but instead he was in awe from the crushing grip that was beginning to turn from irritating into agonising. Lucian slowly realised that he had been tricked, Viridian purposely let herself appear weak and physically frail to draw him in and have Lucian lower his guard, and now the Maiden was going to make him pay for it.

Lucian was enraged by how easily she manipulated him, he fell for such a simple ruse despite the fact she had punched one of his own men across the entire room and through a wall on top of that, he had let his own pride and belief in superiority get the better of him. 

Suddenly, another sensation was emanating from Viridian’s grip. Instead of just sheer pressure along with the pain that partnered that, obviously, a burning sensation mixed with that which was quickly escalating from aching to searing pain. Lucian gasped and growled in pain, smoke rising from the gaps in Viridian’s fingers, her deranged smile only spreading further. 

“W-What the fuck is this…?!” Lucian screamed as he began groaning, the scorching heat felt like it was boiling his skin off his wrists. 

“Funny thing about my aura. In the stories about Maidens, there’s this persistent rumour that the Maiden of Summer gave off a warm feeling that was pleasant to be around. As it turns out, the Maiden of Summer’s aura takes the form of fire and heat. Those nice and pleasant feelings people spoke of? Just the Maiden’s aura in a very thin and weak state being given off by her. But when it’s concentrated in a small space…” Viridian tightened her grip even more, the heat increasing immensely “I can burn people alive, just like how my Silver burnt your Master’s throat to ash…”

Lucian recoiled back from the manic smile streaking across the kneeling girl’s face in front of him. He began pulling at his limb in a meaningless attempt at escape, the vice-like grip of Viridian's fingers dug deeper and in conjunction with this the heat they emanated ascended to an unimaginable level, his forehead drenched from just being in close proximity, and any and all of his muscles near the epicentre of the heat were robbed of their energy, slowly turning lax and weak. In a desperate attempt to escape, Lucian began striking Viridian in her crazed face with his knees. He rained the knees down relentlessly, bloodying Viridian as he seethed and cursed in a frantic effort to force Viridian to release her grip. However, it was to no avail. Despite the deep bruising and blood trickling down from her forehead, robbing her of the sight in her left eye as it flowed directly over the optic, and all of the pain that was accompanied with those injuries; Viridian’s grip was as resolute as when she began. 

“Worthless,” Lucian spat, literally, on Viridian whilst deriding her. “When will you worthless humans learn nothing you do to stop the White Fang’s march of progress will matter?!” He drew back his metal limb and in an unforgivingly swift punch he slammed it into the centre of Viridian’s face, the force and kinetic potential ripped her hands from Lucian’s flesh-and-blood limb; propelling her straight into the Bar and further beyond, shattering and splintering the marble and wooden counter before continuing, onwards, so far that sight was lost of her. The Maiden’s journey was near-instantaneous, not giving a single member of the Huntsmen contingent any time to register the fact she had struck, let alone properly react until it was already over, with no sign of the Black and Blonde-haired Maiden except for the debris and smoke left behind from her flight-path. 

“V-Viridian…?!” Silver shouted, his own voice betraying himself and faltering, as if he couldn’t believe she was so resoundingly beaten with a single blow. She hardly put up a fight, it was shockingly brief even for a battle including Viridian. Barely a minute in total length. Viridian usually allowed herself to be subject to punishment and injury due to her lack of self-preservation bordering on what was fatally masochistic. But even so, her own lack of self-importance and value of her own life usually didn’t cost her more than a few scars, maybe even a limb, but even so those were easily replaceable with her semblance. Had she so easily been slain because of it? A Maiden? Viridian? The concept was unfathomable to Silver. There was no way she could be dead from a punch. And yet, there wasn’t the sound of debris moving from her pushing it out of the way, nor could he hear or see any evidence she was still capable of moving. 

What’s more, his eyes were drawn to his mangled and mattered hand, dribbling with blood, bone and bloody flesh poking out from underneath shredded skin. Lucian had accomplished his crippling with just a tightened grip, a punch of such power and magnitude as the one that had propelled Viridian at a blinding speed Silver had been unable to keep up with surely would have killed a normal man or woman. 

The question was, how abnormal was Viridian? Because cheating death seemed a tall order.

A boot stomped down atop Silver’s ruined hand that was laid flat (relatively, given that was essentially impossible by this point) against the ground. The Faunus howled in pain, choking and spluttering as he failed to even synchronise his thoughts properly before any conscious decision or action on his part was overridden by pain. Silver, through his gargled and intelligible shouts, managed to shift his gaze up the path of the boot crushing his demolished hand, to find a smug, if worn out, Lucian staring down mockingly at the battered Huntsmen. 

“That’s it? Your fabled Maiden was a cheap joke at best. First you help humans, then you fuck them, and now this?” Lucian scoffed, shaking his head amusedly. “You really are a disappointment worthy of being removed from our utopian image, Silver.” He shook his head dismissively “And people went so far as to call these Maidens Gods. Such a lie, not even a shred of truth. Truly disappointing.”

“I’m…going to fucking kill you…” Silver croaked, tears spilling over and rolling across his prone face. Not from the pain, much as it was a contributing factor, no. It was from the fear Viridian was actually dead. Silver was nothing without her. Much as he analysed her, mused over her, he realized as much as she required him to have a motivation to go on living, he equally needed her. They were two different sides of the same co-dependant coin. Viridian trusted Silver, she needed Silver to be a normal person, or as normal as mentally possible for that girl. And in turn, that gave Silver a goal of his own to strive for. Helping her. Without that he’d been in a pitch-black world. Like if somebody stole the sun. 

“Aww, hahaha.” Lucian knelt down, mocking him with pitied laughter, and cranked up the pressure on his hand: causing Silver to squirm and cry in pain. “Grief. It’s funny to watch people go through it. Cathartic to watch your enemies sob and weep for the people you’ve killed. But don’t worry, Silver, you won’t be without her for long.”

As if sensing the threat posed to Silver’s life, a huge explosion flared and screamed into life across from them; the force causing Lucian to stumble off from Silver and bring his arm up to protect his eyes from any dust and air-born debris. 

“You’ve got some nerve…!” Lucian began, before his face dropped. His initial rage from yet another one of his monologues being cut off faded away into stunned disbelief. 

Across from him, stood in the midst of a burning Bar, fuelled by the alcohol and wood that comprised it, was a bloody and burning Viridian. Her face was coated in streaks of blood, but mostly unharmed bar a small cut running down her cheek. Her expression was calmly angered, like the calm before the storm it hid its truly destructive intentions behind a thinly veiled display of inaction. It was unnecessary for her to do anything to actively exhibit her intent, as the backdrop provided more than enough evidence of what could only be described at the inner inferno of emotions raging within her. Fire spread, unnaturally in the movement of a snake slithering, across every flammable object around her. It consumed and turned whatever it touched to hot glowing flames in a perfect shade of violet absorbed the shapes of whatever they touched, spreading no further than what it could touch and burn. It was unreal, impossible and stupefying. Instead of ash, whatever the flames came into contact with was absorbed into the whole, becoming the fire that destroyed it, increasing the size and vitality of the inferno perpetually raging behind the stoic girl ahead of it.

It patiently waited, not moving an inch beyond Viridian, even going so far as to harmlessly spread over her hands and arms, as if it were a loving child embracing its mother. In such a way, it was entirely docile, but this was only half the story. Strands and wisps of flames darted forwards and hissed like an aggressive and foreboding animal warning anyone who would be stupid enough to pose a physical threat to the woman the fire surrounded. She routinely waved the fire off of her, only for it to return and wrap itself around her again. 

“Lucian.” Viridian said flatly, unemotively. “There’s no need to wonder if Maiden’s are real, or whether we’re Gods or not.” Viridian’s cruel and vicious smile quickly streaked across her face, and in a second she was right next to him, flashing over to the Faunus without warning, it hardly even looked like she took a step before placing her hand on the man whom couldn’t move a muscle, out of both dread and disbelief. From his shoulder, steam erupted and a soft orange glow shone from under Viridian’s fingers and palm, the appendage sinking into his shoulder as the flesh burnt away. “Because your Maiden is right here. And I’m fresh out of mercy.”

Like a bird taking flight, the stream shot high into the air, hissing disturbingly as blackened flash flaked and dropped from Lucian’s shoulder. The Faunus thrashed from side the side, Viridian’s hands sliding inches deep into his flesh without reprieve or clemency for the suffering White Fang leader. Her sadism and joyous nature when participating in the agony of others was practically void, her crooked smile was replaced with a soft and content smile, the same when one finished with a particularly troublesome, albeit menial, chore at him. That’s all Lucian had become to the powerful warrior causing him grievous bodily harm, just another obstacle to overcome. There was still some pleasure in causing him pain, ruining his body and desecrating him, but something had changed. Viridian, if anything, felt more relief in bringing him to his knees and knowing the battle was hers. She should have been more enraged, more satisfied and giddy in his torment, but instead it was decidedly average. After being pushed so far to the edge and drained of so much aura to escape certain demise from his earlier attack it was feasible Lucian had activated some latent self-preservation that had laid dormant within her. Whatever the case may be, his blood-curdling screams were symphonic, a beautiful melody that Viridian just couldn’t enjoy right. It was irritating, but on a pragmatic scale she had to acknowledge that it was a trivial matter really. Soon he’d be dead, and she could get Silver medical attention along with Ruby. Well, she wasn’t in a rush to end his suffering. No, Viridian could extend his pain just a little longer. He’d earnt that much. 

A few stray Faunus still fighting had noticed the screams of their leader, naturally from how it was loud enough to drown out gunfire, and repositioned their weapons to aim at Viridian in an effort to displace the Maiden and rescue their leader. It was a commendable endeavour, despite the fact Viridian usually placed no value in honour or loyalty. Of course, this is not to be confused with how she felt towards her team. That was unconditional love. Regardless, it was respectable even to her that they would, in the middle of a battle, leave themselves completely defenceless to come to their leader’s aid. It could have been the actions of blind followers, all but practically sacrificing themselves for their Messiah because they had been captured under his spell and the ideology he spoke of that had evoked such extremism. In any case, selflessness was still oddly pleasing to see, even for Viridian and even when there were guns being aimed at her because of it. 

Viridian half-turned to face their volley of bullets, waving with her hand to create a wall of lavender flames to absorb and disintegrate the offending projectiles in question, completely negating their danger and displaying the disparity in power between Viridian and the rest of humanity and Faunus combined. She smirked, slightly arrogant and self-assured of her dominance. She wasn’t one to think highly of herself, even with insanity gripping the fringes of her mind and squeezing tight for control, she still had insecurities. But in times of conflict and strife, where aggression was the order of the day, she knew full-well she was fire and brimstone, and everyone else were sinners waiting for her Divine punishment. She was a scythe cutting through wheat for the harvest, hard-hearted and unstoppable.  
In the brief moment of distraction, she had allowed herself to be absorbed in, she failed to capture or recognize the movement directly in front of her; pain exploding from her stomach as Lucian had used his metallic limb to strike hard and true in Viridian’s gut, causing the flames in her palm; digging into his skin, to abruptly stop. She lurched forward, winded and gagging hard on all the air that had been contained in her lungs being expelled in one violent passage. Both arms wrapped tight around her gut, her small and feminine body shivering brutally. It took her a few transitory seconds to reorganise her senses from the mind-numbing pain that had robbed her of clarity. The damage from Lucian’s metallic limb should have been fatal, the force alone would have been enough to rupture her intestines and send her into shock. But just like with the singular blow to the head her immense aura that saturated every inch of her body managed to deflect or absorb the force and quickly nullify any damage to the section of her body affected. It wasn’t a perfect system, and after having used so much aura from his first blow it wasn’t like Viridian was good as new, she knew there could be serious damage done, though it certainly wasn’t a death-sentence. Maybe some damaged muscles in her abdomen, worst-case scenario being tearing to the muscles or bruising to her organs, but nothing more. 

She expected a second blow, a killing one. It’s what she would have done, after all. Eliminate the biggest threat that existed and significantly increase the chances of victory. Well, in her case it would be because the biggest threat would be the most enjoyable to fight and kill. But if she was thinking from a tactician’s perspective, like Silver or Lucian, it made sense that would be the motivation behind the decision. Instead, however, nothing came. She rolled onto her side, still heavily gasping for air, to see two White-Fang soldiers were helping the injured Lucian back to his feet and supporting him along his good side. He hardly looked concerned with finishing her off, more occupied with putting on a brave-face for his soldiers as his flesh-and-blood limb hand completely lifeless by his side, several inches of flesh in his shoulders missing from the heat produced from Viridian’s fingertips. Although her senses were still muddled and weak, she managed to slightly overhear what was being said. 

“Sir, we’ve recovered the Target. We should exfiltrate immediately.” The Faunus shouldering Lucian’s weight said.

“I’m in no condition to argue…” Lucian wheezed out, weakly, looking infuriated with the fact he had been wounded. “No man gets left behind that’s still breathing, not for these disgusting humans and traitors to interrogate…” he informed the two soldiers, who quickly relayed the same information through a radio to the rest of their comrades.

“Target…?” Viridian whispered quietly, the act of talking making her damaged muscles to cry out in pain, forcing her to curl up on side and cough out in pain again. Her image of Lucian faded as he was slowly escorted away from the Maiden and out of the building, the remaining White Fang members slowly filtering out too, or at least those who hadn’t been slaughtered by Viridian did. Those who were unconscious were carried by the conscious, able-bodied soldiers. Nobody gave immediate chase from the Huntsmen and Huntress’ side, and for good reason. If a Maiden, bestowed with powers that made the average Semblance look ordinary could be wounded, there was no-doubt worse injuries incurred by her friends and family. Of course, even there hadn’t been it didn’t make sense to go chasing. If the fighting spilt out onto the streets then that risked innocents getting hurt. As Hunters, RWBY, SLVR and JNPR couldn’t risk that. So even if it meant letting the White Fang get away, they had to end their engagement. 

Viridian slowly picked herself up, grunting in pain as she did so the adrenaline from the battle quickly faded from her system and all the aches and pain became ten times as sore in the places she was aware, and new pains she wasn’t conscious of also throbbed into existence. She threw her body up against a pillar supporting the over-head floor, using it for support as she bit down hard on her lip, trying her best to build up as much aura as possible and evenly fluctuate it around her body as possible to repair the damages done to her. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as that. Aura could only do so much so fast, and she was practically completely spent. Even Maiden’s had their limits, and for the first time in a long time she was at hers. Summoning her Inferno-Armour, manifesting her fire like a living creature and concentrating it to injure Lucian was incredibly taxing. Not to mention the protective duties it had to compensate for. She was aware she was mostly experiencing fatigue, but that stop the pain and sagging sensations in her muscles from being agonising. 

Surprisingly, it was Jaune of their group that took notice of her fist, and ran over to check on her. He was surprisingly healthy, a few bruised and cuts but even they were minor and fading with the passing of every second. She didn’t take him as a capable fighter, nor one with a pool of aura that was Maiden-esque in volume. He appeared more dorky and clumsy to her, although there must have been something Pyrrha Nikos saw in him, so maybe it wasn’t best to judge on appearances alone. 

“Viridian, are you okay?” He asked, offering her a hand which she gratefully took.

“Been worse…” She compromised. True, she wasn’t the picture of health with her matted hair from the sweat and her pail features from the pain and tribulating events, but neither was she knocking on death’s door. “Where’s Silver?” She asked with concern filtering into her voice, Jaune having moved to compassionately and chivalrously shoulder her weight and walked her over to the booth where Ruby still rested, unconscious, breathing still unsteady and blood still dried around her wounded shoulder, now wrapped in the make-shift bandaging of Blake’s bow. 

“Here.” Silver said from just ahead of them, balancing himself against another table just a few feet from their own. He leaned at such an angle that he hid his wounded side. A persistent twitch came from his right eye, clearly indicating the pain in his hand was still bothering him, but with his admirable self-control he pushed it aside. Of course, nobody was fooled by the façade, but at the same time nobody confronted the implications. The wounds were, no pun intended, too fresh. “You doing okay?” he asked. That warmed Viridian’s heart somewhat. Even in the conclusion of a battle just gone by, he was still completely concerned for her. He was chivalrous and gentlemanly to a fault with her. 

Jaune helped Viridian over to Silver, helping her sit by his side and lean on the larger of the two, nuzzling onto his strong and sturdy shoulder, Silver making sure she was on his healthy side. “If we’re comparing to the last time we fought the White Fang? I’m two hands better off.” She jested, earning a subdued chuckled from Silver.

“Wish I could say the same.” Silver said painfully, regretfully. They both knew if this was permanent, if his injury was final, that meant any future excursions were over. He’d be crippled, permanently retired from anything that required manual labour. The consideration clearly concerned him. For all his inner strength and fortitude, this was something that clearly troubled Silver. He didn’t know anything else. Being a Huntsman was his only legitimate chance of earning a respectable living. None of team SLVR could live normal lives by normal means. A one-handed Huntsman wasn’t any use to anyone. 

“Silver…” Viridian moved her hand over Silver’s own, squeezing the healthy one, prompting Silver to turn it over and press his palm to hers and entwine their fingers. “Do you trust me?”

Silver raised a solitaire eyebrow, but nodded although there was an air of disquiet about him. “Of course, I do. Do you really need me to deal with your anxieties right now? It’s not the best time…” He began before with her free hand, Viridian cupped his cheek and turned him to look at her. Her emerald gems of eyes burnt with a quiet, determined and passionate beauty. An expression and certainty that she rarely ever showed had flared to life; so powerful and intense that Silver felt a little intimidated, having to gulp back his anxiety. “Y-Yes, I trust you.” He reaffirmed his position.

“Then please give me your hand. I need to try something.” She informed him, and Silver reluctantly brought the mangled mess of an appendage over to her. It was worse than she expected, bloody, raw and ravaged. Bones poking through skin, flesh turned inside out and discoloured. She imagined even if Silver wanted to move it, he’d be unable too. She ghosted her fingers over it, faintly kissing his wounded flesh with the softest and palest of contact. She took a deep breath, trying to control the warring voices and uncertainties within her own mind that conflicted over her plan. To be honest, even without a myriad of voices clashing in her frenetic mind, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to do what she had planned. Never before had she tried to replace someone else’s body part. Her own? Sure, but that was part of herself. It made sense she could replicate her own body. But alternatively, she could make foreign objects. Swords and pistols were the norm, and if she could make moving parts that were distinct from herself, perhaps so too were body parts. 

Of course, making the replacement was not the real issue. The real obstacle in her path was whether or not she could attach it to Silver. Would it just click into place like a building block, or would she have to sew it on? Could she get the dimensions of it correct? Would it be too big? Disproportionate? And most importantly, of course, she would have to remove his hand first. 

This presented two horrific issues that almost made Viridian renege on the proposal entirely. For one, Silver would start bleeding. Badly. He could die from shock or pass out from the pain. Though the alcohol in his system should inhibit the second problem. However, if she couldn’t attach a replacement, then he’d probably still bleed to death. And if he didn’t, he’d be even worse off. Maybe his hand could yet recover, even if it took months or years, but this was an all-or-nothing gamble that would cost him his hand if it failed. 

As she continued to mull over the pros and cons of dismembering her lover, never finding a concrete reason that swayed one way or the other, she felt Silver’s strong and yet contrastingly delicate fingers race up and down her arms, tracing words and signs along her skin in a variety of formats that coalesced into:

“Don’t worry, I trust you.”

“You trust a crazy girl?” Viridian couldn’t hide her amusement, a smile infecting what had been a conflicted expression prior. 

“You’re very late in the game to be asking me that. Besides, I’m not all that well put together myself.” Silver tighten his grip with his healthy hand on her arm, acting to dispel her fears and reinforce the thought that he was willingly going through with whatever it was Viridian had planned. 

Viridian silenced herself, voices, quarrelling thoughts and even her breathing. She amassed her aura, assembling it into a small combat knife, black hilted with a razor-sharp and especially thin blade; perfect for cutting through skin and bone without mangling whatever was left behind on either side. It would do the job perfectly, minimising the amount of time she’d be hacking away at his ruined hand, saving herself energy and Silver blood, assuming her plan worked, of course. 

The weight seemed excessively heavy, like the whole world rested in her palm. With this weapon, she was going to strike and harm her lover. It was for a net good, but it was impossible to dissuade the notion in her head that this, no matter the context or circumstances, was something she would never do. He was one of the few people she could never come to harm. Perhaps he was the only one. Maybe she was possessive, and maybe it was tragic he was the only person she could feasibly attribute such a privilege to. Regardless, Viridian had to go through with it. As few logical processes ever performed within her mind, she was deathly aware Silver’s hand was useless in its current state. And with the White Fang’s return and declaration of war, they were going to need every soldier they could get. What’s more, Viridian realized there was a sense of selfishness driving her decision to push through. With Silver at full strength: she felt protected. And with that sense of security she became aware that was better for her mental health. If that was the case, then she could appreciate her romance with Silver, as well as the real world, and not her distorted image of it. In layman’s terms: She could be happier with a strong Silver by her side.

With one more sway of her hand and generation of her semblance, Viridian was ready. Or as ready as she could ever possibly consider herself. She handed Silver a leather strap, folding it over once just beforehand and told him to bite down on it. A few jests ran through Silver’s head, mainly pertaining to “Chew-toy” jokes based on the close relationship between Wolves and Dogs, but he opted to ignore them, realising the gravity of the situation. 

She raised the knife into the air, her hand shaking as she did so. Never before had the anticipation ever gotten her so jittery and nervous. In the past, she enjoyed the blow. She enjoyed enacting pain and suffering, revelling in the cries and pleads for mercy as she snuffed out the flames of life. This was invariably different. For all the reasons listed and more, she couldn’t generate that same excitement and determination to keep her hand steady. It was probably for the best, she didn’t want to feel the same way at hurting her beloved. 

But it was important she steeled herself, if because of her nervousness and anxiety she was even an inch off she could cause horrible damage, more so than she intended. And that would lead to a domino effect, one bad leading to another. She’d panic, and might take too long in creating the new limb. She needed calm to generate her aura, and that was going to be near impossible even under the best conditions. She slowed her breathing, clearing her mind and tightening her grip as much as she could, to the point her knuckles bled white. She took one final look at Silver’s hand, deciding on the place to strike. It was just ahead of the tip of the wrist, just before it became the palm. Every point below it was still healthy, and it was well-ahead of the vein and other blood-vessels that were bottle-necked in the arm, so the likelihood of massive blood loss over a short-period was decreased, if not eliminated. Viridian simulated it, over and over again. She needed the perfect image of exactly what would happen as a guideline for what to do. She would strike, discard the knife, and clamp her hands down, producing the replacement. Simple and clean. Easy to accomplish, right?

It was a hail Mary, and that was being generous. What she was about to do was unprecedented, if Linen was there she’d imagine he would be lambasting the idea and telling Viridian she was insane for trying it without any previous testing or evidence it was even possible. But Linen wasn’t here, and Viridian gave little credence to “Logic”.

Upon finally putting an end to her unnecessary delays, she found the whole experience was far more surreal than terrifying. Compared to her fears, it felt rather mundane. The blade sliced through Silver’s flesh like a knife through hot butter, rather than bone. Although to be fair, the bone in his hand more likely resembled butter than a durable foundation for homosapien, or Homonovas in the Faunus’ case. Silver grunted deeply, his teeth sinking into the leather between his mouth and tearing against it as he struggled to remain still as the agony awoke every survival instinct in his body. His good hand balled tightly, and blood trickled as well as dripped down from his hand from his fingers and nails digging into his flesh. She could tell from his dilated pupils and trembling line of sight that it was pure agony, but it probably wasn’t the worst pain he had suffered that day. 

With all that being said, Silver kept remarkably quiet, which is what made it truly surreal. Viridian wasn’t entirely sure if it was the strap in his mouth, or his inexorable determination and inner fortitude, but Silver was remaining steadfastly resolute. Everyone else around them watched on in passive concern. Nobody had jumped in, despite the obvious threat to their friend’s health, but Yang at this point looked ready to bring the whole process to a head and end it early, preventing it from getting worse. She hadn’t involved herself, partly out of ignorance to what was going on since she was attending to Ruby’s wounds and making sure everyone else was healthy, but waited in the wings because of the fact she saw Silver was willingly partaking in the procedure. However, her matriarchal and maternal instincts were kicking into overdrive, her eyes were shining a bright crimson red, not angry at Viridian but at the knowledge her friend was hurting. It acted as a warning to Viridian, that if she didn’t complete the procedure, Yang would intervene and end it prematurely. In a consistently coherent world, their roles should have been switched, and that irony was not lost on the Maiden. 

Viridian should have been the one staring warningly to whomever else would have concocted such an otherworldly idea to heal Silver. But circumstance flipped the would-be and should-be with what reality instead had in store for the two of them. Viridian could appreciate how similar she and Yang were, in a manner of ways. They both showed an unyielding drive to protect those they hold deep within their heart, and were both also quick to temper. It wasn’t ridiculous to suggest the two of them could have swapped positions, in other another universe, although Yang did lack Viridian’s patented insanity that made such a suggestion as dismembering your lover as a solution to undoing the injury to a limb. Although perhaps she was insane enough to do it, all Viridian had to do was look at the company Yang willingly kept around herself. She chuckled at her jest, only to quickly redouble her concentration on Silver.

Using her aura once more wasn’t exactly the easiest task in the world. In actuality, it was more like shouldering the weight of a mountain, topped off with added weight of expectation that she had to repair the damage done to Silver. This was because of all the aura Viridian had relentlessly expended during the course of the battle with the White Fang, she had maximised and streamlined as much of her aura as physically possible for both offensive and defensive capabilities to stand toe to toe with the numerous foes she came across. In was a draining experience, coupled with the multiple blows sustained at the hands of Lucian that should have in all reality resulted in her demise, meant she was practically spent. Aura as a concept was the manifestation of one’s soul, so it could never be depleted to zero through the individual’s own usage and manifestation of it as a semblance or to repair wounds. However, it could drop to an absolute minimum. That is, to say: enough to sustain the soul and life-force of the user in question. The capacity of how much aura a person could use varies from person to person, and Viridian had a mind-blowing amount, but even she had her limits and the previous engagement had brought her close to that limit. By no means was she running on empty, but what it did mean is she was only able to perform one transmutation. If she failed, she wasn’t going to get another chance to replace Silver’s now dismembered hand. 

Well, it wasn’t like a hail Mary was ever meant to be easy, was it?

Viridian clutched her own two hands around the moist stump that once constituted Silver’s hand, moist from the quickly leaking blood; shooting out profusely. She bit her lip, agitated and concerned, but determined to press on. She pooled her aura into her fingertips, summoning every less iota of energy her soul could muster without burning itself out. It hurt, every muscle screamed like they were being ripped from the bone by an invisible force. Her ears popped, buzzing ringing in them, her brain pulsed with the pain of being bashed from side to side of the skull in which it resided and she could smell the faintest scent of copper from inside of her nose. Every sense was imploring her to cease her efforts, and yet she had no intention of even considering the notion. There was no way her own bodily harm was an effective argument in dissuading her from helping Silver. It wasn’t the first time her own pain failed to convince her to stop, she had lived her whole life since her Mother’s untimely demise absorbing as much pain as possible, a personal penance for not saving her Mother and for being cursed with such power that it tore her fragile mind asunder. What was more, it certainly wouldn’t be the last time she allowed herself to be subjected to such pain.

Light shimmered and connected like jigsaw pieces around Silver’s bloody stump. Viridian had her eyes shut tight, face creased with pain and resolute determination, as she pictured in her mind exactly what she wanted to summon. Silver’s strong and gentle hands. The one’s that had stroked her hair when she was scared, caressed her and forced the demons back into the deepest crevices of her mind, the ones that had bloodied themselves on the faces of their enemies in her name. They were beacons of justice, the claws of her protective Wolf. Claws that wouldn’t be clipped yet. 

The light finally shimmered, and shattered. Her entire slumped forwards, fatigue finally winning the battle over her. The minute her transmutation sequence came to end, the last of her energy keeping her conscious left her body, leaving everything apart from her head nothing more than a lead-weight, collapsing forwards onto Silver’s shoulder. Her eyes were half-lidded, devoid of energy, bags forming under them like she had been bereft of sleep for days on end. She blinked slowly, once, and then a second time to take in reality. Everything was blurred, and she believed even if her sight was clear and her perception was an accurate representation of reality that she wouldn’t have been able to properly register what the result of her attempts was. Instead, she felt the gentle caress of a strong, stable and warm hand along her head, dipping between her hair to massage her, melting her troubles away.

And then a second joined in, stroking her arm slowly; tentatively. 

“Hey…” Viridian said, weakly. Her eyes fluttered, incapable of remaining transfixed in place, weariness finally getting the better of her resolve. “I did it…”

“Yeah, you sure did.” Silver replied, a frail smile angled down to the girl he loved; leaning over to press his nose and lips into her hair. He took her scent in: ripe apples in the middle of summer, and kissed her. “You’re my living, breathing miracle.”

Away from the two of them, Weiss and Ren were busy attending the injuries of Blake. The Mistral-native was busy supporting the Faunus by placing his hands on her shoulders as she sat on the ground, legs sprawled out in front of her. Ren continued to keep Blake upright, providing her with the strength to do so, meaning she could instead relax and not waste her already waning strength. Blood trickled from her forehead as a result of the skirmish earlier with a member of the White Fang where she had been struck over the head, the blood running down over her left eye; partially blinding her vision in it.  
Weiss took a knee in front of her teammate and friend. Her hands reached towards the hem of her skirt, beginning to pull hard at the expertly woven fabric and silk it was comprised of, when Blake spoke up, worry etched in her voice.

“Weiss! Don’t ruin your dress...!” Blake said, though her voice was gruff and powerless, hardly the tone to go about commanding an Heiress. Weiss flicked her eyebrows amusedly, fixated on her dress and tearing the required length she needed to tie it around Blake’s head to stem the blood flow. It would be a rudimentary and basic attempt at a caring for a wound, but it would have to suffice for the time being. 

“I can see why Ruby has been attached to you by the hip so much, recently.” Weiss smirked, finally tearing off the edge of her skirt roughly a third of the way around, reducing the coverage of her hip by three inches, to a scandalous degree under normal context. 

Blake’s face practically seared with heat from the amount of blushing, obviously Weiss had no idea of what had just happened, minutes ago between the Faunus and Ruby, but the fact it could have been insinuated was enough to embarrass and cause Blake some discomfort. 

Without waiting for a reaction, Weiss began tying the make-shift bandage around Blake’s head, tying it tight with deft precision in the movement of her fingertips, securing it in a very familiar bow-like knot; off to the side. “You’re both dunces.” 

“It’s expensive though, Weiss, I know how much you had spent on it for the dance…” Blake winced, and she could see the parallel expression of pain in Weiss’ eyes at remembering the number of figures that were in the billing for that particular ensemble. Weiss was extraordinarily rich, probably richer than any other 18-year-old in the world, but even her trust fund had taken a slightly dent for the funding of her dress. 

“Be that as it may, I can always have another made.” Weiss attempted to put Blake at ease, before giving a very sincere smile, placing her hand on her friend’s arm. “Besides, I have plenty of dresses as it is. But I only have one Blake Belladonna. I’m happy to set as many aside as I have to for you.” They met each-other’s eyes, Weiss’ accompanied with a warm smile and Blake’s with a look of astonishment. Sure, they were teammates and slowly becoming both accustomed and thankful or each-other’s correspondingly calmer and more relaxed preferences for how to spend their time, especially when compared to the Rose-Xiao Long sisters, but Blake had no idea just how much space she took up in Weiss’ heart and thoughts. 

“W-Wow, Yang’s personality really is infectious to make you so endearing…” Blake chuckled, taking a soft jab at Weiss, who merely responded with an apathetic “Hmph” before readjusting Myrtenaster on her hip.

“Please, I am always a delight.” Weiss looked back out of the corner of her eyes, smiling at her own obvious falsification of history and self-depreciation of her character. “I will do anything for my friends, Blake.” Weiss delivered succinctly, yet with warmth. “However, don’t expect me to cover any loans or debts you get yourself into. My friendship only goes so far.” She winked back, earning her a wry smile from Blake.

“And here I thought you were going to buy me a whole-bookstore’s worth of literature to make me feel better.” Blake chuckled. 

It was hard to be happy, or at the least jovial, for Blake in part due to the throbbing pain in her head and the pulsating pain accompanied with it whenever she looked at a bright enough light. She was experienced enough in combat to know a concussion when she had one. It was hard to accept they had been caught off guard so decisively without warning, and that Ruby had been injured whilst under her own protection. Guilt sat deep in her stomach, making the Faunus feel nauseous. Part of Blake knew she couldn’t be to blame for what happened, and that someone was going to get hurt no matter what. It just hurt that much more that it was Ruby, a girl so tragically smitten with Blake that she had been wrestling with her own feelings and tearing herself emotionally apart without any hint or clue being picked up by the Faunus. And it part, her own ignorance or Ruby’s feeling had led to them being cornered by Lucian. He did plan on being there regardless, so maybe Blake couldn’t blame herself for Ruby’s physical injuries, but she certainly played a large part in Ruby’s mental and emotional suffering, and that made her feel low. Lower than how the racists and supremacists wanted her and the rest of the Faunus to feel when they jeered and swore and beat and assaulted her kind. She let herself down. She let Ruby down. She had once again failed to recognize how inaction and simply going through the motions could lead to downfall and devastation.

And that’s when she remembered exactly what Lucian had said. The reason for why he was here: 

Linen. 

“Oh shit…Silver!” Blake shouted, fear filling her veins like ice, sending chills up and down every inch of her body. How could she be so stupid? How could she have forgotten to mention the very reason everything was happening? She was so worried about Ruby it hadn’t crossed her mind to tell the Linen or his leader that Lucian was here for him. The situation developed so rapidly her mind had entered survival mode, fighting for every breath and not thinking long-term. But it didn’t excuse the fact that Lucian had gotten away, and nobody knew from the start why his chapter of the White-Fang had attacked in the first place. 

Silver turned around, a sleeping Viridian in his arms and walked over and to Blake. “Blake? What’s the matter?” Silver asked, concerned but also perplexed at her sudden outburst. Her fear was tantamount to a prey, cornered by its predator, screaming for help. Her eyes were beady and unstable. 

“It’s Linen! We have to help him!” 

 

Cornered. Their backs to a wall in an alleyway. It was cliched, painfully so. Linen hadn’t gotten far, hoisting a drunk girl with more muscle than himself proved to be no easy task and so he hadn’t gotten far. In fact, retrospectively, Silver’s orders for the smallest and weakest of the group to run away and seek safety with the most inebriated of their team was probably going to lead to a crisis one way or another. The sky and atmosphere itself mirrored the dark situation they found themselves in, the pattering of rain echoed all around them as they skies wept in grief and sorrow for the combination of Linen and Red as their likelihood of escape had dwindled into the realms of impossibility. 

Ahead were several armed White-Fang soldiers, large armoured SUV’s blockading the alleyway behind them as they intimidatingly stared down their scopes and iron sights at the couple that couldn’t protect themselves in slightest. Of course, Linen was smart enough and sober enough to know not to try. Red? She’s always been feisty and dumb enough to try even when the deck was stacked against her. She was like Silver in that way. Maybe if she had her wits about her, she might be able to beat her opponents. But not in these conditions. Linen didn’t need a genius-rated IQ to predict what would happen, it was elementary by this point.

Red went for Deception by her hilt, pulling out the hexagonal pistol and gingerly stumbling over several paces to reduce the distance between herself and the line of White-Fang soldiers. She waved her gun around, hiccupping and slurring her words as she attempted to try and intimidate her foes into scurrying away. It appeared like the logical part of her brain had misfired, and instead accessed her amusement part instead, as she only caused the enemy to laugh and chuckle at her antics. 

Their leader, a blonde-haired Bear-Faunus with bright-red crimson eyes, stepped forward, bandaged and bloody at his shoulder and waist, but still moved unencumbered by the wounds, knocking the pistol into the air and kneeing Red in the abdomen, winding her and reducing her to a coughing and gagging mess, slumped on her knees. 

As morbid as it was to think, it wasn’t the first time Linen had described her lover that way. 

The leader of the White Fang dexterously caught Deception mid-air, and twisted in an equally impressive display of his dexterity to press the barrel right to Red’s forehead. Her gasps for oxygen stalled to a complete stop, looking on in wide-eyed fear at her possibly impending doom. 

“Don’t hurt her!” Linen begged, as the Faunus played with the trigger, teasingly stroking it. 

“I don’t see why not, Mister Blanc. Your…friend here is an insult to Faunus everywhere. Although I will reconsider terminating this pathetic slut’s even more pathetic excuse for a life, if you surrender yourself.” He smiled sadistically, pressing the pistol harder to Red’s head, twisting it to manipulate the skin it touched with every contortion. 

“You want me to come with you?” Linen questioned. Honestly, he wanted to just buy him and Red some time. These White-Fang had to be the same people who attacked Junior’s nightclub. If that was the case, going by their thinned-out numbers and injuries, then Silver and the other’s must have defeated them and sent them packing, or so Linen theorized. If that was the case, then it was only a matter of time before Silver came looking. If he held out, maybe he would come to their rescue. Maybe. Either way, there was no way Linen was capable of fighting his way out. 

“Indeed. Your little rewrite of Vale’s Anti-Grimm defences has prevented my employers from burning this Kingdom to the ground. It’s most impressive, even more so since you’re a lowly human. I was hoping you could undo that for me, you did put it in place after all.” Lucian explained. 

“There’s no way in hell Linen would help bastards like you!” Red screamed defiantly, only to be pistol-whipped and sent crashing down to wet concrete below, whimpering in pain as she curled up on the gravel underneath her. Linen lurched forwards, furious at watching his lover be struck so cruelly, only to be reprimanded by the clicking of rifles in his direction, preventing him from moving a step forwards for his own safety. Lucian, knelt down by Red’s side, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her up to meet his pitiless and malicious gaze. Red refused to meet his eyes, sniffling at the pain in her cheek at the cute now oozing with blood that he caused. 

“Know your place, bitch.” He unceremoniously dropped her back down without grace or consideration, pointing her pistol at her prone form. “Let’s make a little deal. If you come with me and tell me how to undo the encryption you’ve put in place on the Anti-Grimm defences, then I’ll let the both of you live. In fact, as insurance, I’ll leave the girl. Only you have to come with me, Linen.”

“D-D-Don’t do it, Linen.” Red croaked. “You can’t trust a bastard like him…” Red said, before being quickly punished with a swift kick to the gut, Red spluttering and coughing in agony at Lucian’s harsh and merciless response to her insult, forcing Linen to watch as his lover was being slowly beaten to death.

“I am this close to fucking wasting you, you sorry excuse for a whore!” Lucian screamed, before kicking her again, Red writhing and coughing with each subsequent expression of the White-Fang leader’s frustrations and anger. “Last chance, Blanc! Come with me, or a paint this alleyway with her brains!” 

“Okay!” Linen yelled, throwing his head from side to side as tears stung his eyes from the frustration and self-condemnation for being useless. He was always the hostage. Always the runner. Always the one hiding from fear and danger. Never the point-man, and never the hero. He was behind the scenes, safe, but never lauded for his work. The flips-side of the positives however, meant he was powerless to protect those he loved. “Okay! I’ll come! Just stop hurting her!”

Lucian gave one final, degrading kick to Red and half-turned, panting from his excursion of energy in the form of beating the inebriated and defenceless Red to stare hostilely and provokingly in Linen’s direction, impatient towards any further delays. “Get in the car. Now.” He ordered, turning his back and dropping Red’s gun ahead of her, with no concern she could possibly use it with his back turned.  
Linen followed Lucian, only being stopped by Red pulling on the side of his jeans, what little strength she had left successfully stalling his advance. “Don’t…leave me…you promised you would never…leave me…” Red struggled, streaks of tears running down her cheeks from the pain of being beat, but also from the thought of Linen being taken from her, willingly. Her expression was desperate, hopeful, and resigned to defeat all being rolled into one. Linen forced himself to give what could only be a patronisingly smile, even if he intended it to try and inspire some form of confidence. 

“I’m not going to let them kill you.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Linen, my life isn’t worth the deaths of millions…!” Red replied, full of desperation and despair at the thought of so many people dying for her. 

“That won’t happen…” Linen sat Red up so he could kneel down, and runs his hands down to her hips, grasping tightly and kissing his lips. She didn’t want to reciprocate, even when drunk she didn’t like an audience, and it was hardly a romantic farewell kiss. He was choosing to sacrifice lives for her. It wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be Linen’s default position. He couldn’t and shouldn’t love her so much to do that. Linen’s hand grasped tighter to her hip, and any other day she’d probably moan and giggle before thinking of a quick-witted line for foreplay. Now she just felt dirty, and nauseous from Linen’s touch. His touch lingered, and pressed against something hard in the pocket of her dress. He outlined it, and Red’s eyes widened, realizing exactly what he was trying to tell her. “Having the key won’t matter, when they don’t have the door to unlock.” He winked, patting the object in her pocket one final time, masquerading it as a sexual tease to his lover in front of the on-watching White-Fang. He kissed Red one last time, this time far more sweetly, instead of his initial forceful attempt so his whispers could only reach her and no-one else. This time, she reciprocated in fullest, lingering on his lips and allowing her hands to run through his hair and frame his face. “I love you, Red.”

“I-I love you too…” She said in all but a whisper, biting her lip nervously. “I’m going to save you…!” She cried out as the White-Fang shoved Linen into the car, barely giving her, the time needed to announce her declaration before they started driving off, the roar of the engines as half-a-dozen SUV’s barrelled away and down the road.

Red curled up on her side in the middle of the rain in the alleyway in abject despair. She was alone. She hated loneliness. She tried to avoid it, to stave it off with any distraction possible. Maybe that was why she was so liberal with sleeping around, she couldn’t stand to be without someone. Her thoughts always plagued her with insecurities and doubts, and now she had to listen to her own mind tear her apart over Linen. The one person who never judged her. Who always looked at her with love and affection, like she was some Goddess that he wasn’t afraid to approach. It made her feel human. Like a person, not some unattainable beauty that the everyone else saw, or some untrustworthy slut who loved to break hearts. He was gone now. And so was the best part of her.

She began to slowly crumble down from soft and quiet weeps to a torrent of screams of sorrow; pounding her fists into the ground until her knuckles were bloody against the concrete below. “I-I’m going to kill every last one of those fuckers for taking you…!” She screamed into the heavens, hoping the capricious Gods, Maidens, or whatever constituted universal law heard her solemn pledge and make it reality for her.

But there was nobody there. She was alone. Desperately alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap! I am so sorry this took so long to post, but it's the longest chapter out of any so far, so I hope that in someway makes up for it. I apologise for any mistakes (not like that's anything new) but it's so long I'm bound to have glossed over things. Hopefully you all enjoy regardless, and finally the Paint the Town Red and Black arc is now finished. 
> 
> So, onto the summary. Viridian is a boss. She's probably the strongest out of all the Maidens, but it's mostly due to the fact most of them are in control of their powers and can streamline it, whereas her powers are like an out-of control storm with another frenetic out-of-control storm. It bursts out in huge uncontrollable waves that consumes everything in its path, much like her personality. If she practised it, she'd probably be less of a danger to those around her, but weaker as a result. It's the trade-off between power and control.
> 
> So yeah, RWBY, JNPR and SLVR sent the White-Fang packing, even if it was by their choice to retreat. Of course, the White Fang did plenty of damage that won't soon be forgotten. Viridian's aura is so strong and thick it prevented her from death twice and undid the damage to Silver, but even so Lucian was able to fight her as an equal and give as good as he got. He's a danger for any non-Maiden, for sure.
> 
> Silver got his hand back! Viridian replaced her own hands, so I assumed it was possible to do the same for someone else. The only problem is, the objects she creates aren't permanent. As shown with her weapons, she de-materialises them when she's done with them. So Silver's not entirely out of the woods, but since her own hands have been replaced-multiple times and the current pair have been around for weeks by this point I don't he'll be losing them simply because they have a short-life expectancy.
> 
> Awww, a nice bonding moment between Weiss and Blake to show how far Weiss has come. How sweet.
> 
> Uh-oh. Lucian has captured Linen, as he said he would do. But wait, Linen has an ace up his sleeve? Whatever could it be? Mystery's ahoy! Hahaha. Will Lucian tear apart Vale, or will the Brain's of SLVR outsmart Cinder and her factions once again?
> 
> Poor Red, gotten beaten by a Faunus supremacist and watched the love of her life be taken away from her. Tough break.


	25. Desperation at Midnight:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Aftermath of the Battle at Junior's club, RWBY, JNPR and the remnants of SLVR make their way back to Beacon and discuss what it means for the White Fang to have Linen...

There wasn’t much of an aftermath once Lucian and his cronies had made their retreat, Silver assumed command rather effectively despite the obvious toll his injuries had taken upon him. His hair was drenched in sweat, it was matted and dishevelled along with his fringe drooping and covering his bloodshot eyes, completed with heavy bags forming underneath them. He decided against getting involved with the authorities, mostly out of personal preference but also because of the fact being involved in police investigations would only waste time. He was at his patience’s end, looking irritable and ready to lash out at somebody who dared look at him wrong or question either his decisions or motivations. 

After sneaking out of Junior’s previously Gothically attractive establishment, upon Blake finally informing the rest of her friends that the entire assault was to secure Linen Blanc, they began a search and rescue operation in the hopes of securing him before their adversaries could. Regretfully they proved too late to make a impactful difference, much to the fury and wrath of Silver; entirely blaming himself and his naivety for sending Linen without a proper escort. He wouldn’t listen to any attempts to console him, instead choosing to lay into a brick wall until his knuckles were bloody and it had been reduced to dust. A consolation was found however, in the form of the whimpering and crying Red, whom was so devastated and grief-stricken by her inability to defend her lover, even being used as leverage against him. Nobody blamed her, especially not Silver. No, he reserved blame for himself. He only felt pity for his sister, and regret he didn’t do more to prevent it. Her sadness acted as a drive, a drive to undo his mistakes and take action. He was going to save Linen, by any means necessary. 

The collective Hunters-in-training were well aware that any time waisted was only helping the White-Fang get the information they needed out of Linen. They couldn’t dawdle by doing what was ethically expected of Huntsmen by involving the law enforcement so they could be properly held accountable for their actions and stopped them from being glorified vigilantes. What they needed to do was act quickly, and figure out what was going on so that they weren’t walking into the enemy’s den blindly. Procrastinating would only hurt their chances of saving Linen, but acting rashly would only prove equally counter-productive to their objective. When Silver was angry, he could be deceptively razor-sharp in his tactical decisions, using his wits and rage in conjunction to more certainly eliminate his targets. It was a valuable, if intimidating, combination. 

They would first head back to Beacon, safe territory to gather their wits as well as their resolve, and think of a plan of action whilst also gathering the needed medical supplies to treat Ruby’s injuries.

 

The group had trudged home in the midst of darkness. Barely a word had been exchanged between any of them, mostly out of fatigue, but even if they had the energy to partake in conversation it was very unlikely any of teams RWBY, JNPR or the remnants of SLVR would have anyway. 

They were broken and despondent. All questions and no answers, but they were used to that in part. All too regularly since their collective and individual arrivals at Beacon had they felt the world had been arbitrarily covered in a veil of deceit and illusion. Was it for their benefit? Perhaps. But it also made it all the more painful to be told the reason for these travesties was just “one of those things.”

How is that fair? How is that right? Ruby’s shoulder was busted up, caked in dried blood and her pale skin had been so ghostly in the cold winds of the streets of Vale that her friends honestly felt they had lost her once or twice. Yang’s tears were probably the worst for anybody to witness, especially for Weiss. Yang was her chivalrous knight with all the manners and sensitivities of a brick wall, but she was sturdy and supportive like one as well. To see the brawler: break down, whimper and cry was an emotionally crippling thing to observe. She lacked the proper eloquence of language and articulation to quell her worries and end her lover’s torment. It was a little unfair to expect her to have an answer to those concerns, Weiss was painfully aware like at every other step of her life that she was not perfect and couldn’t resolve every issue through sheer force of will alone. Money can buy you a lot of things, but not the ability to alter reality. Not to the degree she would want to anyway. She could do her best though, and her slender fingers slipped inside Yang’s own calloused and powerful digits as a form of comfort. It was just handholding, something they did excessively and generally only in complete isolation for the protection of the secretive nature of their relationship. But as of right then, consequences be damned, Weiss just wanted to support Yang and let her know the Heiress would be there for her Sunny Dragon. 

It wasn’t like that was the only element of suffering that was present within the group. Viridian was so exhausted that Silver was carrying her back to Beacon. Her light-weight and fragile frame with such raw, incredible and destructive power that juxtaposed her seemingly innocent nature so radically that the Wolf-Faunus could scarcely believe she was the same person he had kissed, caressed and made love to. Maybe she wasn’t one person. When he considered her split personality and the rapturous voices screaming inside of her head maybe the Maiden and Viridian were entirely different people. By the very nature of how her powers worked, it very likely could have been. But if that was the case, which one had saved him, and which one had he fallen in love with? Did it even matter? They were probably two sides of the same coin. The only distinguishing factor being how much destruction they left in their wake, and in either case it was enough to slaughter an army. 

Regardless, the girl had done much for everyone that night. She took the brunt of the enemy force, sending them into a complete retreat and rescued Silver from what would have been a certain demise. Silver dipped his head down to kiss her forehead and whisper something unintelligibly quiet to her. He was so fatigued from her injuries and the night’s events in general even he couldn’t properly discern what it was he was trying to tell her. It was likely to be something sappy and cheesy, calling her his “Little Psychopath” or something equally backhandedly complimentary. 

Blake had also suffered, more than anyone else one may argue. She had borne witness to a frantic and insecure Ruby, who thought of herself as an inadequate partner romantically for Blake and in the midst of this confusing revelation had thrust herself upon Ruby and taken the girl’s first ever kiss in a dark and damp alleyway. She then watched helplessly as Ruby was shot through the shoulder by an extremist White-Fang leader. Throughout the entire battle she couldn’t focus, Ruby and her health preoccupied her every thought. It was Blake’s fault this happened. She was a Faunus; her eyes were meant to cut through the darkness and expose those who hid within it and her ears were meant to discern and locate even the slightest of noises. She should have seen Lucian coming, she should have been a match for the White-Fang grunts, and she should have protected Ruby. She failed in the simple task of keeping her leader safe: keeping her friend safe. Blake wasn’t likely going to move past her own grief or guilt any time soon. In fact, ever since leaving the White-Fang and feeling fully-responsible for the transgressions carried out by the group whilst she was a part of it she had never really known or understood the notion or concept of being content or redemption. She didn’t really want to either. Knowing it was her fault, knowing she could never make up for the lives she had ruined and damage she had done was good motivation to not stray from the beaten path and her new sense of righteousness. Of course, she had felt similarly determined and assured what she was doing for the White Fang was justified and right to do. She had been proven wrong once before. Maybe she was wrong again. Maybe the guilt, the heavy weight and burden upon her soul was doing more harm than good. In any case, she was experiencing a torrent of guilt that was strangling and nauseating. How could Blake realistically stand here and tell herself she wanted Ruby? That kiss they shared, the one in the alley, was electric and intoxicating. Her teenage and perverse region of her mind wanted it again, and again and again and again until her lips were sore. But then the conscientious region of her mind told her she was responsible for Ruby’s injury. She was an un-convicted criminal masquerading in the same occupation as some of history’s most legendary warriors. They weren’t blackened like her, they hadn’t sinned like she had. Ruby loved and admired those Huntsmen and Huntresses like they were Gods worthy of nothing but praise, like their mere existence were fairy-tales come to life for the young girl. She deserved somebody who epitomised that dream and vision of hers, not some ex-vagabond and criminal in the form of Blake Belladonna. Hell, Jaune was a more viable candidate for that role than she was, or so Blake considered him to be anyway. And yet, a part of her heart yearned for Ruby’s eyes to flicker open and stare into Blake’s amber-windows into her soul with her own gun-metal gems, flash her that puppy-dog-quality of adorableness and ask Blake to be her girlfriend. Could Blake say yes? Better yet, would she be able to resist? It was like those eyes cast a spell on anyone who looked into them, bringing them under Ruby’s banner and making them her friends. If Blake really didn’t want to be with Ruby, or thought she shouldn’t be and would inform her choice based off that, she felt as if she wouldn’t be able to resist Ruby in the slightest. A part of her actually felt a little relieved by that. Maybe she did want this. Not that it mattered. Guilt was her shepherd; regret its lantern, leading her into those dark corners of her mind where taking flight, running and being a coward were the default reactions to any obstacle that faced her way. Blake was to blame for this all, she didn’t know how, but she felt it. However, despite all of this, one thing had changed inside of her own internal processes as a result of being a part of Team RWBY:

She wasn’t going to run. She was determined to right her own wrongs, whether wrongly attributed to or by herself or not.

“I’ll make this right.” She whispered into Ruby’s ear, who surprisingly mewed like a kitten in her arms. Blake felt a blush creep into her cheeks, eyes widening at how earnest and unburdened the soft whimper from her team leader was even with a gun-wound in her shoulder. She felt a throaty chuckle escape her, and a smile beginning to form across her lips. “You really are something special, Ruby Rose.”

 

Silver paced back and forth relentlessly. He was never one to get overly agitated and consumed with a taste for vengeance or aggression against a single person or group, but he’d be lying if the image in his mind at the point right then wasn’t the entire White Fang dead at his feet. They dared to interfere with what was beginning to look like an ordinary and civil life for his family, one he had dedicated to protecting. They stole his friend, his best friend and confidant whom always had his back and made him see reason when his emotions got the better of him. Linen was the brains, the smart and tactful member with a cool head on his shoulders that wasn’t reactionary. They were a good foil, and always complimented each-other. They may not have been brothers by blood, but by every other metric they were as close if not closer. And the White Fang, Lucian, had the arrogance to think they could just take him and expect there to be no consequences?

Recompense would be the word of the day. And Silver would make sure their debt was paid in blood; in full. 

But for the time being it was a moot point. Any attempt at vengeance would be impossible and inconsequential in the long-term unless it was carried out correctly, and with a proper stratagem in mind. This was the only thought in Silver’s mind that transcended above the cries of anger and howls of violence and managed to keep him focused on the task at hand. He relentlessly paced back and forth inside of team RWBY’s room, having managed to sneak back within the dorms under the cover of night well after curfew. They would undoubtedly get into trouble for breaking this rule, but for now it was the least of their concerns. As for the other occupants of the room, Ruby herself was laid down on Blake’s bunk, being attended to on a router system by any combination of their still conscious conglomerate with aura transfers to help stitch her wound closed as well as undo any muscular or skeletal damage inflicted by the bullet. As Linen had pointed out, it was a clean exit, but there was still minimal damage to be expected; it wasn’t as if it avoided everything in her shoulder miraculously, it would be more accurate to say it just did the least possible damage it could all things considered. Although, on the bright side, the majority of the injuries had been healed and even the wound itself was mostly closed with the residual effects of the gore surrounded where the bullet had pierced making up any evidence of injury. Ruby’s own breathing had returned to a normal pace, and whilst her skin still remained a ghostly pale, it was significantly improved compared to how she had appeared upon being carried through the cold midnight breeze only moments before. Silver could see the relief being manifested unsubtly in Blake’s shoulder’s drooping along with her producing an audible sigh of relief. Yang gave her a quick stroke along the back, letting the Cat-Faunus know she was there for her partner and that everything would be all-right. Silver found it momentarily amusing how assured Yang had come, given she was almost ready to grieve for her sister’s life not ten minutes ago, but in absence of Ruby’s leadership somebody had to stand up and shoulder the weight of their team whilst burying their own fears. Silver knew all too well about that, sometimes feeling emotionally stunted or suffocated after carrying the burdens of his team and maintaining a strong outward appearance in order to keep morale up. It was a heavy cross to bear, but Silver knew Yang was more than strong enough to withstand it. 

As for everyone else, Viridian was sleeping on team RWBY’s sofa. Her breathing was a little laboured, but mostly soft and carefree. Expelling so much energy in the form of her Maiden-powers always came at a great physical cost, usually only in the form of an intense fatigue bearing down on her like a cruise-liner’s anchors. Regardless, she had done her duty and then some for Silver and their friends, going so far as to save his own life. Of that, he was eternally grateful and was more than happy to allow her gentle slumber to take place during yet another crisis, even if he would like to have her abilities available for any rescue operation going forward, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

Elsewhere Weiss stuck by her partner and lover in the forms of Ruby and Yang. She doted on the two of them, offering whatever services she could provide such as fetching a warm towel or a glass of water. Again, Silver found momentary amusement at the fact the Heiress to the publicly traded equivalent to a mortal enemy of his was running around like a servant. He had never really confronted the fact she was Weiss Schnee, and in reality, it didn’t really bother him. He wasn’t one to pass the sins of the Father onto the child, he preferred to stay unbiased as possible and judge an individual on their character and not their origins or actions of their family. Besides, she couldn’t be even one hundredth as bad as her Father if she was training to be a Huntress. She could be sat in a boardroom, doing nothing and earning more than all the Huntsmen in this entire academy put together over the course of their lives in a month. There was something to respect about someone coming from an aristocratic and assured wealth to dirty their hands in the knit and gritty. Stepping down from a pedestal so high up everyone would have been laughably insignificant must have been damaging to her Father’s pride, perhaps even her own. Silver could respect that, hell, he even admired it. It didn’t say everything about her character. From the brief exchanges they had, she could come across as entitled, arrogant and haughty. This came as no surprise, growing up in the environment she did you had to act in such a way to survive, and little by little Yang’s own carefree and Laissez-Faire attitude was chipping away at Weiss’ own tougher exterior, with some help from Ruby as well. She had laid the ground work, after all. Weiss also occasionally relocated over to Viridian to check on her, to which Silver would give her a nod of acknowledgement and even a grateful smile, to which she happily reimbursed him in equal measure. 

JNPR stood collectively on the edge of the room, acting more as passive observers to the rest of their friends rather than involving themselves. There wasn’t much to be done, and silence still predominantly filled the atmosphere of the room with tension. They looked on to Silver every now and again like an audience waiting for the first line of a play to be delivered. They all knew the reason why they were here, and all knew what would happen before it did, the onus was simply on him to deliver on those expectations. But he was still thinking, and he wanted to allow everyone to rest up as much as possible before he even began setting things in motion. It was very likely some of them could die, as they were walking into the belly of the beast, no doubt a White-Fang stronghold where they could also find any number of Salem’s council overseeing the course of events. It wasn’t an ordinary mission, and it did not carry ordinary consequences. As much as he wanted to charge in, rescue Linen, and slaughter as many of their enemies as he physically could, he was aware that there was a very real chance that in the worst-case-scenario he wouldn’t be rescuing Linen. He would be killing Linen to prevent anyone getting anything useful out of him. 

That sent a palpable chill down Silver’s spine. He didn’t like thinking like that, but the pragmatist inside of him told him he couldn’t kid himself. The likelihood they would all walk in and out, along with Linen, was slim to none. 

But finally, there was also Red huddled in the furthest corner of the room from anyone else. Her beautiful and revealing red dress had been torn and tattered along he hems of the skirt, stained with mud and grit from the concrete pavement, dampened from the continual rainfall which she had been laid in, crying to herself. Her hair was ruined; matted; knotted and frayed along its edges. She held her revolver, Deception, the one that she had failed to protect Linen with and inspected it curiously with dead and distant eyes. Silver had been cautious enough to remove the bullets from its chamber, knowing Red could be overdramatic in the best of situations when Linen was in danger. He didn’t expect her to kill herself, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The girl refused to acknowledge anyone who addressed her. Pyrrha had tried once or twice, crouching down and tried to use her sweet and honeyed tone of voice to try and break through whatever despair and misery that had gripped Red so tightly, but evoked no response out of her at all. Silver wanted to ask her if she had overheard anything, or if Linen had formulated any contingency plan that might help them locate him, but it would be frivolous to even try. She was less a person and more like a statue at this point, not even a twitch or change in facial expression from the abject misery that adorned her so. He knew he needed to give her space, but enabling her sadness or ability to process what had happened did nothing to help Linen, and that’s what he needed to do first and foremost. Still, a brick wall was a brick wall, and he wasn’t going to get anything out of her no matter how hard he tried. He could only feel pity for his sister, Red, pity was the only thing anybody could feel for her in her current state. She was simply broken, like the midnight moon that stared back down cruelly at Silver through the window from up high.

Finally, regretfully, the silence was shattered and Silver was forcefully yanked from his reverie by Jaune’s voice.

“We need to tell Ozpin about this.” Silver knew Jaune meant well, but even so whether it was his squeaky tone or sheer ignorance or just a matter if Silver being acutely irritable, he couldn’t help but snarl a little at the comment.

“No fucking way.” He spat back. “We’re not involving anyone in this, any attempt to involve anybody else in this would be nothing more than a distraction and a waste of time. Ozpin would warrant patience, and time is something that is not on our side.”

“You already decided against informing the police! We can’t go around pretending like we’re vigilantes, that’s why you came here, to stop doing things that way!” Jaune responded, indignant at the thought Silver would even be this opposed to involving authority. 

“Jaune’s right, Silver. We’re Huntsmen and Huntresses first and foremost. We don’t have the right to take the law into our own hands.” Pyrrha backed up her boyfriend, stepping forward with an expression of iron-clad neutrality, her lips curved down to show her dissent at his own proposal. She was standing, broad-shouldered and calm, her breathing metred. She was the spitting image of a picturesque heroine, if not for her breathing you could forgive someone for thinking she was a Huntress immortalised in stone like those that greeted arrivals to Beacon. She juxtaposed Silver, in neatness and attitude, but he was weary from worldly experience. Taking the honourable route may have been respectable and justifiable on a basis of principle, but Silver knew of the men they face intimately as did another who would have his back.

“Silver’s right.” Blake spoke, her voice hoarse and lacking any reliance or assertiveness; not that it was rich in the final quality anyway. “We’re talking about the White Fang. When we took prisoners, it was either for financial gain, or to send a message. And those messages were sent quick. Brutally quick.” She didn’t turn to face anyone, her eyes clasped onto the softly snoozing Brunette deposited on her own bunk, her back staining the sheets with her blood (However little had yet to dry, or escape from the mostly closed wound). Yang kept perpetually stroking her partner’s back, also not choosing to acknowledge the conversation or leave her sister’s side. “If they really have Linen, we need to move. Fast. We can’t afford not to do this by ourselves, involving outside parties will just lead to interference.”

Silver nodded, some of his irritation melting away as he resembled more of a brooding and contemplative General considering where to next send his troops in the coming battle. 

“Ozpin or no, can we get an explanation as to why the White Fang took Linen specifically?” This time it was Ren who spoke up, the usually silent Mistralli acting as a mediatory between the opposition duos. 

Silver sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his ears drooped in regret and exasperation, realising even more so that having to explain this will create a poignant irony and lay all of the blame upon himself. “If what Blake told us is accurate back at the club, then the White Fang have Linen because they know he altered Vale’s Anti-Grimm Defences at my orders with an incredibly complicated rewrite of its activation and deactivation protocols. In short, they’ve kidnapped him to try and coax the information out of him to lower the Defences of the Kingdom, create mass panic, and allow the Grimm to exterminate anyone and everyone in the Kingdom of Vale.” 

“And then get their hands on the Relic.” Yang added, her voice low and full of contempt. Silver raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at how well-informed Yang was but simply shrugged and bopped his head to the side to indicate she was correct. 

“She’s right, but that’s all needlessly complicated at this conjuncture. The important point is Cinder, her gang, and everyone else in league with her are trying to tear down Beacon like they did months ago at the Vytal Tournament. Except this time, Linen won’t be there to stop you from ripping that Android girl into shreds.” Silver eyed Pyrrha momentarily, who look taken aback and bewildered by the statement.

“What do you…?” She began before Silver continued, ignoring her inquiry. 

“We’ll also have a flood of Grimm literally tearing our walls down, and no Huntsmen, Huntress or Maiden will be capable of stopping a literal flood of Grimm. In other words,”

“Pandemonium…” Pyrrha said, aghast at the notion. 

“Precisely. The only reason the Attack on Beacon wasn’t worse was because Linen blocked all access to the Atlesian Dreadnaughts and Frigates and used his semblance to…disrupt their plans, let’s say. But more importantly, we had the element of surprise and manipulated events along with Raven to make sure nothing extraordinarily bad happened. Suffice to say, that ace in the hole has been handed over to our foes.” Silver explained, grimly. 

“So…they have Linen, access to our defences and nobody besides us has any clue what’s going on?” Jaune asked, and Silver simply dipped his head in conformation. “Then why the Hell aren’t we telling someone about this?! This could be the end of Vale! Beacon! We could all die!” Jaune shouted, and contrary to most expectations it was not a plea from cowardice, but rage. A rage that could match Silver’s and even intimidated the Faunus and made his eyes widen in surprise, before he quickly regained his composure. 

“In all honesty…you’re simultaneously right and wrong.” Silver said cryptically. “They have Linen, and the access to our defences, but they don’t know they have access. Or at least, they think Linen is the access when he isn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Weiss jumped in, sat behind Silver and next to her own partner as she was gently applying her own aura to Ruby to hasten her recovery by holding the younger girl’s hand, tightly. 

Again, Silver sighed. This shouldn’t be his job. Linen was better at explaining this thing, as much as he rattled on about every segment of code or trojan hoarse or what other minutiae corresponded with the rewriting and backup he had introduced into Vale’s systems. “Linen does have knowledge of the systems and could theoretically undo his own code. He could probably even break it, given enough time, and if anything, I hope that’s what the White Fang are asking of him. Because the alternative is terrifying, but it’s also our trump card.”

“Silver, you’re going around in cryptic circles, you’re the one who has insisted we not waste time; so, get to the point.” Ren spoke up again with flawless logic, to which Silver simply groaned at. 

“I’m getting there!” He growled “Linen made sure that anyone of the four of us could access the Defence systems at any time with our scrolls. He hacked them and created an app that, in the worst-case scenario, we could use to either turn on or turn off those very systems. It was a back-up, a special backdoor into Vale’s systems and the only gap in the code he used for his rewrite. Basically, if they find that scroll then they can tear down his rewrite and shut those guns off for good. On the other hand, they won’t know about that unless they break Linen and get him to tell them in which case we have a little more time to rescue him.” Silver explained, before huffing and leaning on the window sill, staring down at the ground with an exhausted gaze. 

“Wait, you’re telling us you can access the defences at any time?” Jaune inquired, to which Silver just nodded to him. “You could have…butt-dialed us into oblivion?” Practically everyone that wasn’t unconscious give Jaune a disapproving glare at the morbid and poorly-timed observation/attempt at humour. 

“No, no. It requires a password. But they have Linen, who created that password so it’s a moot point.” Silver responded, motioning back and forth with his hand; dismissing the comfort the information could have brought. 

They finally allowed the information to settle, taking in the seriousness and gravity of the situation along with all the macabre implications that it carried with it. The silence was heavy and foreboding, as if everyone was being acquainted with the knowledge of exactly how their demise would come about before it was destined to. Nobody could be blamed for losing any of what composure they had left by this point. The entire basis for a positive outcome hinged on the fact the White Fang didn’t check Linen’s pockets or think to check if his phone had any useful information on it. Silver had essentially told them they were Dead men walking. 

However, everyone still stayed relatively cool. There was some shaking, twitchy fingers but for the most part they held themselves together. Silence reigned predominantly over them. Was it a sign of collective thinking or planning, or a silent acknowledgement of death? In any case, words weren’t exchanged. That was, until a weak voice spoke up. 

“I-I-I d-don’t hear the G-Grimm attacking, s-so they can’t know about the backdoor L-Linen made…” Silver whipped his head around to see the glassy and half-lidded eyes of Ruby Rose, slowly drinking in the surrounding area. Her gun-metal eyes couldn’t fixate or hold steady on a single thing, her lip quivered from the pain in her shoulder as she tried to sit up using it, before collapsing back down onto her back and inhaling in agony from the blinding ache emanating from her shoulder. “Ow, Ow, ow…”

“Ruby!” Weiss, Yang and Blake all exclaimed wildly in a mixture of disbelief, relief and joy at her awakening. Blake, surprisingly to all around them, reacted the most animatedly, throwing her arms around her team leader’s shoulders and hugging her tight, pinning the younger girl to the mattress and falling on top of her.

“You’re awake! You’re awake! Oh, thank god, I couldn’t have lived with myself if you had never…it was all my…Oh Ruby…!” Blake tried to exposit her feelings, before finally just collapsing and sobbing into Ruby’s shoulder (thankfully, the healthy one) whilst clinging to her firmly. A soft and shaky hand eventually made its way up to Blake’s head, stroking her long and dark Raven hair comfortingly. It was followed by a throaty and weak chuckle, mere inches from her ear. No matter how devoid of its natural accent or infectious cheer and volume, Blake was astutely conscious it was Ruby’s laughter. Her lips were close to Blake’s ear from their newfound positioning, and so the air whisked up and brushed Blake’s ear, causing the Faunus the shiver and blush like she had never done since the days when she had first met Adam. It was a confusing and unbalancing feeling, being reminded of Adam by Ruby, but it also wasn’t unpleasant. Not because of the nostalgic memories it produced, but being near and having this reaction evoked by the brunette was…nice. It assuaged Blake’s fears, instead replacing them with a sense of comfort and calm she hadn’t ever been blessed with. She had always kept one eye open, mindful of her surroundings and suspicious of others. But for once, everything melted away into the background, and the foreground was dominated by one thing and one thing only: Ruby Rose. 

“B-Blake…” The weakened voice of chirped, brushing her ear intimately again.

“Y-Yes...?” Blake had absolutely no serenity whatsoever. Maybe it was the battle, knowledge the White Fang could seal their fates at a moment’s notice, or maybe it was that kiss she had shared with Ruby, but Blake was shivering and antithetical to her apathetic and indifferent demeanour. She didn’t know what to expect. Was Ruby going to kiss her again? In front of everyone? She had lost a lot of blood, and it was clear she was delusional as a result of it in combination with the pain she probably wasn’t aware of everyone in the room. Sure, she had responded to Silver, but just how knowledgeable was she about actually doing that? 

“C-Can you…get off of me? Please? You’re crushing my shoulder…” 

Blake’s eyes widened and she scampered off, embarrassed and remorseful she hadn’t even taken that into account before leaping onto the smaller girl. She rolled off the bed and landed on her behind with a thud. She couldn’t help her blush, feeling more self-conscious and mortified than she ever had in her entire life. Yang helped the Cat-Faunus onto her feet, giving her a grin and a pat on the shoulder that informed Blake she was probably in the clear about Yang suspecting anything from the two of them, probably chalking it up to the sorrow and blame Blake had been obviously attributing to herself for Ruby’s injury. 

“You two can kiss and make up later.” Silver rolled his eyes, and both Blake and Ruby blushed this time, much to his confusion; although he chose to ignore it as there was more pressing concerns. “I’m glad you’re okay though, Ruby, and you has a point…” Silver turned around to look out the window. To most, all they’d see was the pitch black and occasional patch of light from the streetlamps illuminating Beacon’s footpaths, but Silver was a Faunus. His keen sight could map out every inch of the school ahead of him and even extended further than the average human’s vision could travel. His equally impressive hearing was also an effective tool in discerning the current state of Vale. His ears flicked, and pupils dilated as he scanned as far as possible. He could hear no sirens, screams or see any Grimm whatsoever. The patch of the walls surrounding Vale that he could just about get a glimpse of appeared erect and perfectly stable. He leaned back through the window and finally managed to smile. “Okay, so the good news is the White Fang haven’t discovered the Linen has the scroll on him or what it can do yet. Either that or the Grimm sure are slow these days.” He summarized.

“And the bad news?” Yang asked.

“We still have no idea where the White Fang is or how many of them there are.” Silver’s positivity drained out, and Yang chewed her lip ruefully. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, eyes closed in a sage like manner. 

“Small victories are better than none, I always say.” She managed an uplifting smile that slightly raised Silver’s spirits.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Better than being condemned to death.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Yang punched Silver’s arm playfully with a smile. Ruby began laughing faintly, before coughing as a result of overextending herself. “What’s so funny, sis?”

“You’ve never said anything that profound in your life, liar…!” She smiled teasingly up at her older sister.

“Why you little…! If you weren’t literally bed-ridden, I’d tickle you half to death!” Yang threatened, leering at her sister and even leaning in whilst flexing her fingers menacingly, causing Ruby to whimper and excessively apologise to Yang for her sassiness. 

“Since when have you known the word ‘profound’…?” Weiss inquired to her teammates, addressing her with her hands on her hips and an upturned eyebrow. 

“Word of the day calendar.” Ruby half-shrugged, unable to use both shoulders due to her injury. 

Everyone managed, momentarily, to put their fears to one side for just a moment. Whether it was Silver or team JNPR enjoying the spectacle, or Team RWBY taking part in it, the weight of their scenario seemed to lighten significantly. Team RWBY were always that way, bright and cheery; as good at lifting spirits and bringing smiles to people’s faces as they were at hunting Monsters and bringing criminals to justice. They were the source of morale and joy in any group they were a part of. Even now, as Ruby couldn’t even sit up properly, she could instil hope, happiness and belief in anyone she came across. That made her a born leader, someone anyone could see themselves running headlong into battle side by side with. It was inspirational how she tipped the scales of their perspective so quickly in regard to Linen and the White Fang. 

Suddenly, a shuffling came from the corner of the room. Silver’s ears twitched, in acknowledgement of the sound and turned to face it, seeing the miserable and dragging features of Red Herring staring at him. He regarded her silently for a moment, before fully turning to face her, carefully bringing his hands up to guide her down onto Weiss’ bed by her shoulders. She didn’t break eye contact, her hollow and distant gaze locked directly into his own scrutinising equivalent. 

“Red, you should rest. We’ll handle this.” He spoke softly, everyone else giving the two of them the requisite silence they needed whilst passively observing. 

She managed to click her tongue in a “Tsk” whilst also finally cracking a smile. But it wasn’t joyous, not primarily, it was more amused than anything. Like she was in on a joke the rest of them weren’t. She collapsed forwards, her head falling onto Silver’s shoulders and her shoulders began to buck up and down in silent laughter. Silver was bemused, utterly and completely. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he was certain it was her grief and anguish reaching a pinnacle of sorts. He embraced her, trying to hold her steady as he hushed her. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I promise, they’re not getting those codes, and we’re getting Linen back. I mean it.” Silver wasn’t so sure if he meant any of that, the odds against them were still astronomical, at best. It may have been a silent admittance in his own head, but it was likely the best outcome for them was Linen dead, unable to tell anyone anything. He couldn’t tell Red that, it would destroy her. So instead he settled for a patronisingly cliched elder brother attempt of comfort, much as it wasn’t his forte. 

“There’s nothing to worry about…” Red mumbled into Silver’s chest, her Faunus ears drooped on top of her head in what would have been an adorable manner, if it wasn’t a symbol amongst the Faunus as an admittance of defeat. 

“Yeah, that’s right. We’ll save him.” Silver said, as tame as he could be, his own sadness and misery building up at her wistful and dreamlike tone, unable to withstand seeing his own sister reduced to such a…Viridian-like state. 

“No…” Red leaned back, pushing Silver away gently with her hands on his chest. She reached into her dress pocket, and pulled out a scroll, the most innocuous item possible really. But when she pressed the home button it lit up, and Silver’s eyes widened in more shock than ever before in his entire life. He looked scared, confused, relieved and sceptical all at once. Red appeared to revel in this, nodding whilst biting her lip in a suggestive and elated manner, as if to confirm his suspicions. “It’s going to be all-right, Silver.”

“H-How…did you…get that?” Silver asked, still in a state of astonishment. 

“Back in the club, remember? I forgot my scroll.” The drunkard that was Red, hiccupped; breaking apart her sentence, and disrupted her ungraceful as well as loose grip around the phone, causing her to drop it onto the ground between JNPR, RWBY and the remnants of SLVR. The scroll had a blank background as its lock screen, nothing special or standout about it in anyway. But there was some Vanilla-white-text close to the top of the screen, that simply read out:

 

**Linen’s Scroll.**

 

“He let me borrow it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Oh yeah, I'm back! And now I'm finally in university, which would normally mean I'd have less time to write chapters, now has me more motivated because I have to do something to pass the time away from my courses, which are to do with writing, and this is the perfect way, especially when I'm feeling homesick. 
> 
> Anyway, how did we all like Volume 5's first episode? I loved it because the Summer Maiden (Spoilers for anyone who has not seen it, I will give you ample time to look away now if you don't want to know) is the FUCKING PERSONIFICATION OF DESTRUCTION, VIRIDIAN IS BASICALLY CANNON! 
> 
> I'm kidding, obviously. But nice to know, on a whim, me and Monty/Miles/Kerry were all on the same boat with the Summer Maiden. 
> 
> Okay, onto the chapter summary. Wow, emotional chapter with a lot depressing dialogue and clashes with characters. Basically Jaune and Pyrrha would naturally clash with Silver over how to handle the White Fang's kidnapping of Linen. Silver is an ex-mercenary who spent his entire life outside of societal niceties and norms, so naturally even upon becoming a Huntsmen he still tries to bend the rules or outright ignore them based on pragmatism. Or his own offshoot of it, in any case. Regardless he's emotional and not all together stable, so it may be a little irrational to refuse help but at the same time, he thinks there's no time to even consider help even if it would be helpful. Jaune and Pyrrha are level-headed and calm, but without proper knowledge of why Linen is so important since they haven't been exactly clued in they can't understand that the sword of Damocles is inches from Linen's throat, at least from what Silver knows, so none of them are exactly sure of how to deal with the current scenario. 
> 
> Hurray! Ruby's awake! It's been a while since she's done anything, so of course the first thing I have to have her do is demonstrate why she's a respected leader: She's good at keeping everyone happy and focused on the positive. She's the linchpin of the series because of her positivity, so in the depths of despair of course those silver eyes are gonna light the way towards hope.
> 
> Hurray! Teasing more Ladybug! Don't worry, I won't tease it being official forever....maybe...hahahaha...
> 
> So, and Red accidentally has prevented the White Fang from having direct access to the Anti-Grimm Defences of Vale from being drunk and wanting to take pictures of things. Never say an alcoholic can't save the world. Just make sure they aren't behind the wheel of a car. But the White Fang still have Linen, so a rescue operation still has to be launched. The question is, how will RWBY and the gang find the hideout, and what's more, can they get Linen out alive? So many questions with so many possibilities...


	26. Conflict of Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang, Blake, Silver and Red head-up a task force to rescue Linen and take the fight to Lucian. Yang and Blake, encounter an old adversary...

Yang, Silver, Red and Blake all stood in combination at the docks of the city of Vale. It was predictably quiet, the odd foghorn of ships passing by the edge of the city’s mainland edge acted as the only real disruption to the silence other than the gentle slapping of the ocean tide against the concrete platform of the Docks. Silver had brought them here under the pretence it would help narrow down the location of where the White Fang were hiding, but remained intentionally vague, and even a little nervous, about the origins or exact details of how or why they would come by this information. The most they had to go off was a quick and hurried phone-call he made to an anonymous individual whom he wouldn’t name after the fact. They had no reason not to trust Silver, but his actions were incredibly suspect. 

For the RWBY contingent, this wasn’t their first visit to this location and it appeared to be a reoccurring theme in their lives. This was where Blake confronted Roman Torchwick during the Dust operation he had set up in order to supply Cinder and the White Fang with munitions for their once upcoming invasion. In concordance with that event, this was also where Penny had displayed her inhuman strength and power that had essentially saved the day due to team RWBY’s relatively unproven nature as well as their lack of skill. Since then, however, things had changed significantly. 

To begin with, Blake had overcome her own reservations about how to treat the threat of the White Fang, no longer trying to play diplomat with her former brothers and sisters. They had been corrupted, their minds filled with hatred and propaganda about humanity and the necessary actions that needed to be implemented. She couldn’t fight with weakened resolve or uncertainty in her heart, she couldn’t waver, as much as it pained her to take a stand against the only people genuinely trying to make a difference on a global scale for the Faunus it was even more painful and unacceptable to watch innocent people die from Adam or Lucian’s insane crusade for dominance and control. It wasn’t equality. It wasn’t what Blake wanted. Besides, Lucian had hurt Ruby. If in some deep crevice of her heart and mind she still leaned in favour of the intent or foundational belief of the White Fang above Ozpin’s teachings or her own sense of righteous justice and egalitarian principles, which she didn’t, she simply could not stand by and allow the transgression of injuring Ruby to go by without recompense. Naturally she sided with Silver over Jaune, yes, the later had a point regarding taking the law into their own hands being wrong, but at the same time such a notion hadn’t stopped her and the rest of team RWBY from stopping injustice whether they saw it. That’s why Blake became a Huntress. To end injustice and help the weak where the long-arm of the law couldn’t reach, to those ignored and left to fend for themselves. Like the Faunus, like all those poor and destitute people outside the safe walls of the Kingdoms. None of them deserved to be forgotten and treated like an insignificant outsider. The Huntsmen and Huntresses of the world represented their own justice, a code of honourable warriors abiding by their moral code to help people at any cost. To thrust themselves into danger’s jaw, and snap it off. Silver had been doing that his entire life, fighting for any cause that would help people. Was he always right? Did he take things too far, and endanger more people than necessary? Of course, but his actions matched his principles. So, when he asked for someone to come with him, Blake was the first to step up. The changed Blake Belladonna. She was still meek, timid and quiet. But she had that fire and fury that had led her to join the White Fang, but it was controlled and clarity had finally been gifted to her. She wouldn’t falter, she wouldn’t run. She would never run again. 

She wasn’t the only one who had changed either, Yang mirrored her partner in that sense; although for different reasons. Freedom. Liberty. Exhilaration. These are the terms Yang lived by, although not spoken so succinctly or elegantly. Yang was no typical woman, she never had been. Her entire life she strode for her goals, but often got distracted and knocked off course by her own strong headedness. Her stubborn demeanour was echoed by her Semblance, taking the brunt and blows of whatever the world had to offer and still strove onwards and onwards and onwards until she finally could claim victory. But it was always to her own detriment, being tripped up by a lack of focus or consideration or forethought at the possibility of something unexpected creating a fork in the road. However, ever since becoming a member of a team, she had discovered her individuality was at odds with her responsibility for her teammates and their wellbeing’s. Slowly, over time, she had reigned in her explosive temper and tendency to react without thinking or consulting her team. Needless to say, her relationship with Weiss had the same effect but tenfold to that of anything else in her life. Rather than being weighed down with expectations or burdens, she felt more like Weiss kept her grounded, preventing her from drifting too far; too fast. Those soft, delicate and fragile digits locked around her waist, her pointed and elegantly sculpted porcelain face nuzzled into her long and messy tresses of a mane. She felt more comfortable standing still, thinking, and appreciating everything around her in that embrace than she ever did when seeking the next thrill or burst of adrenaline she could get. All of that, and more, helped Yang to third place in the Vytal Festival, and one of the most respected Huntresses-in-training throughout the entire world. She no longer was the brash girl who lost her temper needlessly, she was Yang Xiao Long: The Dragon of Patch, a foe nobody should take lightly with a family to protect and the guiding hand of a lover to keep her maintained and grounded. Perhaps her metamorphosis wasn’t as spectacular as Blake’s, but she wasn’t the same girl who walked into Beacon that very first day, ready to run off and have fun. Now she had become a Huntsmen in mentality as much as she was in strength and resolve. She wished Weiss was alongside her, even now, in order to provide her with a stronger sense of security, but knowing Blake; her trusted partner had her back was welcoming. Together, their synchronicity and level of trust that collectively bordered on psychic-levels of prediction, there was nothing that could challenge them.

However, it was still fair to say that Yang would have felt calmer, more self-assured, if her Snowflake was there to have her back, but they had agreed on taking as small a force as possible. They didn’t want to be seen coming and too many Huntsmen would be harder to coordinate if things got dicey. Silver had agreed on a squad of three: Himself, Yang and Blake. 

That was the plan, until Red had thrown her hat into the ring without consulting anybody else on the matter or asking if Silver was okay with it. Rather, trying to convince her otherwise would have accomplished very little, and that’s why Silver barely made an attempt to do so. She blamed herself as much as Silver blamed himself for letting Linen getting kidnapped by the White Fang. Along with the motivation of Linen being her lover, the only person in the world that treated her the way he did and loved her the way he did for the reasons he did, she was never going to be swayed into playing a passive role and waiting to hear back about the success of the mission. Of course, Silver felt slightly over encumbered by the fact Red was still intoxicated from the night of drinking. She had downed several cups of coffee in quick succession of one-another to try and fight the effects of the alcohol, but it only had limited effects. If Silver was being an optimist, he would say that she wasn’t slurring her words and sounded far more coherent. If he was being a pessimist (or in his mind, a realist) she couldn’t aim to save her life. Her hands were shaky from the stress and her balance was still off-kilter. Thankfully this was slightly combatted with her switching into her standard outfit with flat-heeled boots that did most of the work for her, but there was only so much you could do to pass a drunkard off as a deadly-former-assassin-turned-Huntress. 

As for everyone else: They had been assigned by Silver to stay at Beacon and watch over the injured and make sure the attack at Junior’s club wasn’t a sequence of attacks at certain strategic locations or to achieve certain objectives. Beacon was obviously a prime target for an assault based on the fact it housed both a Maiden and the Relic under Ozpin’s jurisdiction that Salem would no doubt try and garner for herself and her forces if the slightest of opportunities presented itself. He couldn’t be sure, and wouldn’t allow for the possibility to arise, that all of this was just a distraction or insidious scheme to leave the school unattended by himself or any of his allies in RWBY, JNPR or his own team. Perhaps it was arrogance, or maybe it was just a gut-feeling, but he wanted all his bases covered. You didn’t win a war by expecting the best-case-scenario. 

The four of them stood together in a line, looking off at the ocean view. It was tranquil. The waves were weak, almost at a standstill. The rain from earlier had come to its natural conclusion, but it seemed as if the ocean maintained a more neutral and relaxed attitude than to the precipitation from earlier. Yang certainly wasn’t one to assume weather or nature ever reflected the proceeding events in the narrative of real-life, or could be a negative or positive omen for anything, but after learning of the Maidens and the Relics that helped shape the world she was willing to give voodoo magic a try to see if it had any worthwhile effects. A good thing too that magic was the predominant element in the world, as she had never gotten straight-A’s in her science classes. Still, maybe she should take a page from the stillness of the ocean. Be calm, be serene. 

“So…what are we doing here?” Yang asked, finally breaking the silence after a few minutes of, what she considered to be, awkward silence. 

“Waiting for someone.” Silver responded in a politically neutral way, answering her question whilst also avoiding giving a concrete answer.

“Who?” Yang tilted her head quizzically. 

“You’re not going to be happy, put it like that.” Silver said, remaining vague. “When you’re an internationally sought after-and internationally wanted-mercenary you can’t go by ordinary means of intelligence gathering. You need to use…unconventional sources to hunt down your targets since you can’t go around like a respectable Huntsmen.”

“Silver…” Yang’s voice was low, like a growl almost, but without an aggressive or accusatory tone. It would have been more accurate to say Yang was concerned for the whole of their group, and not indicting Silver for keeping illegal contacts with criminals. 

“Lesser of two evils, Yang. Lesser of two evils.” Silver proclaimed in his defence, despite the fact he clearly felt conflicted about the idea and unconvinced by his own argument. 

“If this comes back to bite us, I’m kicking your ass.” Yang warned.

“Duly noted.” Silver compromised, if it could at all be called that. Really it was more of a resignation to once again having his nose broken by Yang. If he was lucky. The lengthier the duration of time in which he was in Yang’s company, the more he became aware of the juxtaposing rage and ferocity in relation to her more jovial and relaxed demeaner. It was slightly terrifying to know that even a (moderately, given how she lost two Mother’s before adolescence) well-adjusted person could snap to anger and thinly-field or outright explicit threats of violence when provoked. Silver wasn’t shocked, just nervous of getting on her bad side, which wasn’t all that difficult given the company he was guilty of keeping (whether or not by preference) during his time as a mercenary. 

“So,” Yang began, resorting to a more peaceful approach and tone “Who is it that you’ve…?” Yang began, before she was interrupted first by the flickering of the three Faunus who were in league with her; surprised that even in her inebriated state that Red could still hear exponentially better than her and be aware enough to swiftly respond to it. Perhaps it was more instinctual, a biological trait the Faunus had picked up during their more primitive cycle to avoid predators; Yang wasn’t sure, she was not all too well knowledgeable about the Faunus anatomy or their equivalent of anthropology despite some of Blake’s most earnest attempts to inform her. Yang was more of an active and practical learner, as opposed to a bookworm like Weiss or Blake. Regardless, she then noticed second of all the patter of footsteps, a pair of them, approaching them from behind. Her own instincts kicked in and she activated Ember Celica without a moment’s hesitation. Both bracelets jerked and clicked into gauntlet-mode: Prepared to fire with the finest of thrusts from either arm. A hand shot down to her side and grasped hold of her forearm, binding tightly to her limb and keeping her bound to the spot. In actuality, Yang could have broken free and launched herself into a frenzy of punches and strikes, but she could tell it was more of a recommendation not to fly into attack. She felt a little ashamed at how eagerly she was willing to attack without forethought, but given the fact her combat-high had yet to wear off and how on edge she was of seeing someone else get hurt, she could at least justify her preparedness to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. 

Yang’s eyes darted to see Blake’s hand smoothly caressing her own arm, no longer clutching her but instead trying to appease her violent mindset. Yang was about to thank Blake, or maybe even deflect and protest why Blake would stop her when she herself hadn’t yet seen what danger was approaching them. That was her intent, until she saw an expression she had rarely seen Blake make, sans a few intermittent exceptions: it was one of disgust. Her brow was furrowed, bottom lip quivering in rage and what looked like silent but animalistic snarl descending down her whole face. Yang’s eyes widened whilst her lips hung open in awe, Blake had many reasons to be angry tonight much like Yang, but something had clearly riled her up. Instead of being given a chance to respond, Blake instead chose to speak first.

“Just listen. More carefully.” Blake’s voice was a hushed rage, barely containing itself, the only motivation being to hide what she was saying from being heard by the newest arrivals. 

Not wanting to argue, Yang did as instruct. She closed her eyes, trying to eliminate the sense of sight to improve her own hearing. That was one of those ancient sage tricks many people posited like facts, right? That’s why the blind always had improved senses. Or at least, that’s what those blockbuster and big-budget movies that Yang always watched suggested. Perhaps it was an urban legend or an old-wives’ tale. Either way, couldn’t hurt to try. 

Yang listened, really listened. She focused in on the minutiae of whatever noise was being produced by the encroaching footsteps. It was difficult to say if the abolition of sight truly improved her sense of sound, but she could interpret with more clarity the reverberations approaching her although that might have been because they were closer than when she had initially reacted to them. At first, it sounded just like she had heard at the beginning: two sets of footsteps. One pair lighter than the other, and those definitely generated the clack of heels Yang was accustomed to hearing from women. The other set was heavier, although not significantly, but it was there and obvious. However, beyond all that, there was something else. Something more vague and unique. Yang wasn’t initially sure, it sounded flat, but clacked sharply against the ground like it was being thrust into the ground. A spear? A javelin? A polearm of any sort? No, it didn’t sound like a weapon, and definitely didn’t have the weight to it to be any sort of conventional weapon, for whatever good that term did given the inspired variety of weapons Yang had grown up around. And then it struck Yang as the distance was being gradually cut down. It wasn’t any of those things, no. 

It was a cane. 

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Blondie and Kitty-Cat! Long-time, no see!” Yang reared her head at the voice. It was the voice of deceit, of conniving, of selfishness and of someone who valued self-preservation above morals and ethics. It was a voice that collectively, Team RWBY could never hear again and it would still be too soon. It was the voice of Roman Torchwick and flanking him was his private enforcer and all-around demon midget Neo Politan. Yang’s eyes flirted with crimson, before dying back down to their natural lavender. She managed to reign herself in, but her willingness to cooperate and exchange pleasantries had taken a sharp decline, it was only by remembering the words and image of Weiss crying about Yang’s recklessness that kept the blonde in check. 

“Right now, I really wish I had Weiss here to cool me off.” Yang said, bitingly at Roman, almost matching the snarl of Blake. 

“As always, Blondie, your sense of humour is well-timed and appropriate.” Roman snapped back, sarcastically. The gangster turned his gaze away from his long-standing adversaries and instead focused on the Wolf-Faunus. “Silver, what in Dust’s name are you doing hanging around these toddlers? I thought you were the merciless soldier who fought for the betterment of the world and blah, blah, blah…” Roman rolled his eyes condescendingly “Seriously, what is with this generation and trying to sound so pretentious?” He said, raising his arms in confusion, to which his mute Lieutenant smiled and matched his expression of confusion and exasperation. 

“Nice to see you too, Roman…” Silver quipped back, avoiding all pretence of sounding hospitable. 

“Silver, you know this scumbag?” Blake narrowed her eyes, quick to shift towards an accusatory tone as opposed to Yang’s more mediated stance. 

“We had a tense working relationship that was mutually beneficial…” Silver sighed, letting his shoulder sag before reaching up to rub his forehead wearily “As I said, in our line of work you don’t always have access to honest and respectable sources of information. When you’re hunting rats and other despicable creatures, you go to their king…” 

“Ouch, that hurts my feelings a little, Silver.” Silver rolled his eyes at Roman, as Neo mirrored her boss’ sentiment by making a heart-shape with her hands and then breaking it in half; mockingly as she gave a fake pout. 

“Cut the bullshit, Torchwick. We’re here for a reason.” Silver growled at the gangster although the attempt at bravado and intimidation seemed to have little effect on Roman, he was undoubtedly used to both giving and receiving that very treatment to the point of desensitisation. 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the Den today, what? Did you get another innocent girl killed again?” Roman’s usually subtle but highly noticeable smile crept up into an insultingly prominent grin. 

Silver’s hands snapped into balled up fists, brimming with his mixture of anticipation to hit Roman along with his blistering fury that had been stoked into an inferno by the jibes and goading of the Gangster. 

“Silver, what does he mean?” Yang asked, although she had already positioned herself to prevent the Wolf-Faunus from launching himself forwards in case his emotions got the better of him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had witness it, and the last time it had cost the Faunus his right hand; albeit momentarily. She couldn’t let him haphazardly throw himself into danger again. 

“Oh? You didn’t know, Blondie? What about you, Kitty-Cat? Not caught up on your friend’s past dealings?” It was clearly rhetorical, meant to incite more anger and try and test the fabric of the group and how much strain or dissent it could take. People like Roman didn’t get to where they were by sheer and simple strength. They were professionals at setting friend against friend and family against family, as well as securing partnerships and alliances with those who they could profit off of. It was important to remember no matter what he said, it was only to make them doubt one-another and lose focus. Yang was determined to not let that happen and instead decided to place her faith in Silver, at least for the time being. “Silver here was actually working for me as payment for a job. All he had to do was protect a young girl of a financial benefactor of mine who was being targeted by a rival gang before I was the Kingpin of Vale. What was her name…?”

“Elanor Nightingale.” Silver responded automatically. His tone was absent of malice or aggression. It was flat. Baseless. Robotic in how it answered. His eyes shimmered in sadness and regret. Yang swivelled over to look at Red for confirmation, and even inebriated she could see the Fox-Faunus looked pitifully and sympathetically to her leader. “It was a botched job. I fucked up.”

Yang found herself at a loss for words, she couldn’t shut her mouth or tear her eyes away from Silver. That saddened, defeated and vacant look on his face really helped the blonde to comprehend exactly what Silver had lived through. It finally clicked that he hadn’t lived an ordinary life in the slightest, it been a catalogue of innumerable tragedies, struggles, trials and tribulations. His face seemed to age at least ten years as he clearly recalled just one of the many people that had died during his career as a soldier of fortune and justice. Yang couldn’t begin to imagine just how horrible that feeling must have been; to be responsible for the death of one person, let alone a score of them. The attack on Beacon had been terrifying and scarring enough, but to spend every waking moment of your existence fighting against criminals, monsters, murderers and villains? That was enough to break even the strongest of men and women. And it had clearly taken its toll on Silver. It struck Yang the only thing that probably motivated Silver to face those demons, those nightmares and haunting images were the people he loved. Losing Linen would crush him beyond repair. She tightened her firsts, fingerless gloves straining against her hands as she doubled and tripled her resolve. This fight wasn’t just Silver’s, and neither would his burdens be. 

“I seem to recall hearing that name…” Blake said thoughtfully, cupping her own chin as she searched the annals of her mind. 

“Should have, her death was all over the news.” Red replied. “Media made a big story about it. They ate it up, and who could blame them? The story of how an innocent girl was killed by mobsters, tends to be quite the sob story. Lead to an uproar from the city and officials gave Huntsmen more investigative and interjectory powers to try and combat the issue.” 

“Turned out to be for the best, really. Her Father was so enraged he basically spent every penny he had in funding my organisation searching for vengeance for his little girl’s death. And as a result, there wasn’t anybody left to oppose me in Vale.” Roman ended his story like it was some kind of happy ending to a bed-time story, with Neo clapping enthusiastically by his side like the sycophant she was.

“All it took was the blood of an innocent girl.” Silver snapped back, finally regaining some of his trademark passion and anger, incensed at how casually and apathetically Torchwick treated the death of an innocent. 

“You may want to get down off your high-horse, Aloi, I think the lack of oxygen is making you loopy.” Roman deflected condescendingly. “In case you didn’t notice, every corporation, Kingdom, Empire or Criminal organisation is built on the blood of innocent people. I’m surprised you take such offence at me, you do realize the enslavement of the Faunus was a casually and happily accepted reality in Vale at one point? Slave labour helped build the foundations of this city that you helped save by thwarting Cinder’s plans at the Vytal Festival. Don’t act so idealistic. People die all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it. That’s life, learn to live it, kid.”

“Unlike you, I feel responsibility for the people around me and I want to protect them. I carry her death with me everywhere I go. It was my fault. Every night I see her innocent and helpless expression as she was gunned down. The demons I carry are of my failures, and I’m not about to add another name to that list.”

“And finally, we get to the crux of the issue!” Roman said, condescension returning once more to how he addressed Silver. “You wanted to know where your little friend was taken, correct?” 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Yang interrupted, waving her arms to try and prevent the conversation from continuing onwards without a proper explanation being afforded to her and Blake. “Why is he helping us?! Silver, you ruined his plans! Helping us should be the last thing on his mind!”

“Oh, trust me, Blondie, I’m very conflicted over this, but some things are more important than a grudge.” Torchwick answered.

“Like a bigger grudge.” Silver crossed his arms over his chest, fingers still biting into the flesh of his forearms from his thinly-retained rage. “Cinder cut him out of her plans. He has no loyalties to her and as much as we equally despise each-other, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right, that just so happens to be the case. If I can’t be on the winning side of whatever insane revolution is being instigated by that temptress, then I have to push whatever grievances I have aside and help you kids, can’t run illegal racketeering and robberies when there’s no kingdoms left to rob.” Torchwick explained with the mildest shrug of his shoulders like it was no big deal to him, and this was simply the next logical reaction to take after being shunned by Cinder, but it was clear he was investing heavily in the success of Yang and her friends even if it was entirely for his own benefit and survival. Silver was probably used to this kind of reaction and logic, it was his own just in a different form, given that he was from Vaccuo: The Kingdom of thieves and vagabonds. People could switch allegiances on a literal dime depending on how needy they were. Regardless, Yang was still weary of how quickly Roman had changed his tune about working with the representations of justice as well as law and order, considering he had taken part in an armed insurrection and uprising only months prior. Scepticism was healthy, especially when you were working with someone who was only moments away from killing you, Yang thought as she glared at Neo; whom pretended not to take any notice as she whistled soundlessly. 

“Where should we go looking then?” Silver said, finally getting the conversation back on track and away from politics they had been playing along with the constant flinging of insults and psychological games being played. 

“Why, right here of course!” Roman spread his arms wide, gesturing all around him to the massive docks. “It’s why I brought you here, save you some time and all that nonsense. They’re holed up right here, underground, in the docks. It’s where we hid out when I was a part of their operation, you remember, don’t you Kitty-Cat?” Blake scowled at the nickname and at being addressed at all by Torchwick. There was no love lost between them, and the quicker she could be done with him, the better. She just wanted to find Lucian and make him pay for what he did to Ruby, if that meant dealing with Torchwick then fine, but she refused to be cordial with him. “Anyway, I may have lost access to their plans and funding, but thankfully I have some contacts still within her group that let a little information leak through now and again,” Roman began, meanwhile Neo puffed out her chest and placed both hands on her hips proudly, as if to signify her role as the informant in question. Yang did her upmost to not make jokes about a mute being an informant and the irony surrounding that, now simply wasn’t the time. “Helps me stay on the run, in case she decides I’m a loose thread that needs snipping. From what I’ve heard, there haven’t been any signs of White-Fang entering Vale through the airways or across the terrain since Vale stepped up its security in the wake of the Vytal Festival. So, that leaves the ocean, or more accurately, underneath the ocean.”

“Underneath?” Yang’s eyebrow quirked upwards to emphasise her puzzled nature. 

“Rumour has it a contingent of White Fang arrived in a secure Atlesian military and science base in a Submarine, ransacked the place and made off with a lot of precious cargo. So, where would a submarine go? Why, an old sewage pipe that was supposedly cordoned off for “Hygienic” purposes that just so happens to be wide enough to accommodate your average submersible.” Roman exposited.   
“Means nobody ever saw them enter the city, perfect stealth.” Silver groaned in recognition of Roman’s knowledge, cursing himself for not thinking of the possibility. Lucian deserved credit for out-thinking him once again, at the very least. “How’d they accomplish that though? What I mean to say is, how did they get access to that old sewage pipe? Corrupt politicians?”

“Precisely!” Roman responded “You’d be surprised how many democratically elected officials are happy to sell their Kingdom’s fate to the highest bidder. Even the ones who wanted nothing to do with Cinder after the attack on Beacon have been…convinced, one way or another to not stand in the way or create awareness of the fact.”

“Terrific.” Silver said disdainfully, frustrated at something so mundane and universally acknowledged at corruption in politicians had created such a dangerous situation. 

“What a great day for Democracy, almost makes the conclusion of the Great War look like a bad decision…” Yang muttered. 

“Where is this drainage pipe then? The sooner we get started the sooner we can ruin their plans.” Silver said with a confident tone, deciding to ignore Yang’s quip and get them back on track, almost excited to bring the fight and ruin the asperations of their opponents. Yang had to admit, getting one over Lucian and Cinder sounded like an exhilarating opportunity. 

Torchwick pointed straight behind them “Right off the edge of that pier. It’s a lengthy journey though, as you can expect given it’s a secret hideout and what have you, so…hold your breath.” And with that, Roman Torchwick turned his back on them and muttered a final comment, probably something witty and sardonic uttered in that witty and venomous tone of his. 

“Wait.” Silver said demandingly before Roman had entirely disappeared back into the shadows from whence he came. The gangster’s shoulders sagged a little and he audibly huffed in frustration. “What do I owe you for this?” Silver asked, and Yang realized his intent. People like Roman Torchwick don’t just give you information for no good reason, not unless they expect something out of it in return plus interest. 

Roman huffed, his lips being pulled into a subtle smile. “So long as there aren’t any Grimm in this city and the walls don’t fall? Consider the debt paid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading like always and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Not much to say on this chapter, it's more of a set-up for the conclusion to the current arc (which is next chapter, semi-spoilers of what to expect but hopefully that's evident enough) and act as a way for our heroes to learn where to go.
> 
> So, Roman is back. I honestly didn't have an idea of how I would use him, but then I remembered the chess analogy throughout the series, specifically when Tyrian refers to the White Fang and Torchwick as pawns, and it helped me realize that in the case of failure he would be one of the first few characters Cinder would get rid of. He served a purpose and failed, but he's wily enough to find a way to survive (irony). As for Silver's connections with him, as alluded to he only worked for Roman as payment for information that he procured from Roman for another job. Naturally Silver didn't want to dirty his hands in Gang-based hits and killings, so a bodyguard role would be a fair compromise. More tragic elements for Silver, unable to keep innocent people safe. You could take it as foreshadowing, or just tragic backstory. Either way, it serves its purpose for helping our heroes learn what they have to learn, and Roman isn't so stupid to fail to realize that they have the best shot at stopping Salem's forces, so it's in his best interests to help out.
> 
> Neo is an undercover informant, anybody who remembers the chapter "Cinderella story" will recall she was securing the getaway vehicle for Cinder and co, but she's naturally loyal to her boss. Father figure. Lover? Fuck it, I've seen so many interpretations of Roman and Neo they all mesh into one. 
> 
> I love Neo, so I wanted to shoehorn her in somehow meaningfully. I had more ideas of where to place her in the story, but for now this will do until I better outline the next few arcs. 
> 
> So, next time round Yang, Blake, Silver and Red will confront Lucian. Yay. Fight scenes, explosions, drama, peril, development. How exciting~


	27. Do or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake, Yang, Silver and Red infiltrate the White Fang's hideout, only to discover they were expected...

Roman Torchwick didn’t linger longer than necessary, turning on his hails and departing alongside Neo, disappearing into the dark veil of the night but not before offering one final goodbye with the wave of his hand back to them in a gesture that appeared more genuine than anything else he had ever done over the whole series of events and exchanges he had shared with Team RWBY. 

As soon as he left, and Blake was sure their former adversary (if former could even be used accurately) was out of earshot, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked judgementally at Silver “How many criminals and old adversaries of ours are you on speaking terms with?”

Silver seemed briskly amused by Blake’s inquiry and nervously chuckled “More than I’d care to say. Came with the territory of the job.” 

Blake sighed and nodded solemnly “I’m sorry. I’m the last person who should be judging you on the basis of what you’ve done.” Blake apologised but Silver just waved it off.

“Nah, don’t be like that, Blake. Just because we’re better people now doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be equally criticised for the things we’ve done. It’s our source of motivation to keep being good people.”

“You’re right.” Blake huffed amusedly and smiled. “Although, some heads up beforehand would be appreciated.”

Silver held up his hands ruefully, accepting the criticism openly and without confrontation. “I will take that under advisement. No more keeping you guys in the dark no matter how nervous I am of telling you something.”

Although it appeared like the conversation had someway still to go before its natural conclusion, Red barged her way past the three of them and stood by the edge of the pier, gazing into the water with a furrowed brow and an air of impatience.

“We’re here to save Linen!” Red shouted “Or, have you forgotten your best friend is being tortured by the White Fang for information that could kill us all?!” Red, incensed and furious and whether or not it was bolstered by the alcohol from earlier couldn’t be easily determined as she had plenty of reason to be as angry as she was, stared down to the shimmering and leisurely shifting shape of the water in which her dishevelled appearance rebounded at her like a basketball. It finally struck her how losing Linen had ruined her. How long had it been since she had that gun pointed to her head? Since she watched Linen walk with Lucian of his own free will? It couldn’t have been more than two or three hours, maximum. She was meant to be attractive, stunning, a Faunus of unparalleled beauty and charm that could make even the most ardent of supremacists and racists reconsider their allegiances, if only for one night only. Now her hair was tangled, knotted and instead of its usual straight and flowing shape it shot out like something akin to Doctor Frankenstein or Oobleck. She self-consciously patted it down where she could, only for it to fight back stubbornly most of the time. She grunted, just another item to add to the list of immediate and long-term frustrations that would probably make her hair go as grey as Silver’s Faunus ears and eyes. It was insignificant, but with the litany of factors piling up both big and small she was feeling like the world was clamping down, squeezing on her tighter and tighter to the point she was becoming claustrophobic. But she kept pushing back. Every time something came up that was frightening, enraging, frustrating or perplexing to her she pushed it away and willed herself to keep going. Because she was fighting for Linen. She was always and only ever fighting for Linen. She loved Silver and Viridian, she’d take a bullet for each of them and had done so before, plenty of times, but she did not always share Silver’s values or principles. They were respectable, she’d go so far to say they were even commendable, but Red didn’t necessarily think in the same sort of manner. Her life was about survival. That’s always what it’s been about. Silver managed to press on against the innumerable hardships because he had his mantra, his doctrine of fighting to create justice where there was none. Of helping people. Not Red, no. She feared death, hated the persecution and wanted to change it if possible, but more than anything she just wanted to find a safe haven to hide from it all. To keep it at bay, to live a little longer just for the sake of not dying and losing the only thing she had of value: her life. Linen helped change that, or at least, alter it. Now she fought for the both of them, to make sure they could both stave off death. To share their embrace and make the most out of the world around them. It was subtle, but it was there. There was a want to live now, rather than just avoid death. Linen was the only person who refused to judge her, mock her or pity how she treated relationships and sexuality. That’s why she loved him. Because he didn’t see a whore, a slut, an assassin or a lowly Faunus who would abandon everything to escape a raging fire. He saw Red. Just Red. Nothing else. And he still loved her. It was fine for the world to burn according to Lucian or Cinder or Salem’s dreams, so long as she could share a safe haven with Linen. 

Red snarled to herself, looking at the pathetic image of herself reflecting back at her in the water. It was ridiculing her. Telling her she was just another body. Just another Faunus who was happy to be trampled over and have Silver take the spotlight as their glorious leader. This was her fight, not his. She’d take the plunge before anyone else.

Red stepped off the edge of the pier, and sunk beneath the surface of the ocean. For the first time that night, the water of the tranquil and still ocean finally rippled far and wide. 

Silver bit his lip and sighed. “I should probably go after her.” And with that, the second member of their group leapt into the ocean, sinking beneath the surface. 

Yang flinched, lavender eyes wide and confused. “Wait, we didn’t talk this through, are we really going to go diving into the ocean with no gear on, searching for a pipe-way that we have no idea of how long it is?” Yang directed her question towards Blake, who had yet to move herself.

“It would be the least guarded entrance to their hideout. And Torchwick kinda omitted the part of what warehouse the actual entrance to the base is. Basically, this is our only option.” Blake delivered in her monotone fashion, seemingly unperturbed by the idea of swimming through an old sewage pipe. It struck Yang at that moment that Blake, being a former member of the White Fang was probably used to and unsurprised by these tactics, as were Red and Silver after having worked in partnership with the Fang before. Whereas Yang was essentially a rural farmgirl from a simple little Island-Village. It made her thankful for her Dad’s rather strict guidelines for how his two daughters should behave and how limited Yang’s exposure to exceptional experiences were, such as using unconventional tactics to enter an enemy base. It made the mundaneness of her childhood all the more pleasant and desirable in retrospect. Maybe she’d take Weiss back to Patch one day to meet her Dad, show her around, go to the beach and swim together without trying to implement an insane rescue plan that had little in terms of actual planning. Silver mentioned before he had an ace in the hole, but beyond that she had little faith this was going to be anything but an all-out slugfest. 

“I guess…” Yang said defeatedly, realising one way or another she was going to have to get drenched and ruin her hair, which regardless of circumstance or priority was not something she was willing to do without a substantial nudge, the proprietor of whom would resultingly be clobbered. “Hey, Blake? Cats are afraid of water, right?” Yang couldn’t help it, maybe it was insensitive but she was worried about this. She was headstrong, but not stupid. The odds were overwhelmingly against them, stacked in the enemy’s favour, and despite the fact she wanted to pummel Lucian for hurting her sister and felt her eyes flickering back and forth constantly from crimson to lavender representing her barely suppressed rage, she couldn’t help but worry this was a one-way trip. She could probably make a joke at Weiss’ expense about getting cold-feet, but one slightly insensitive joke about Blake’s heritage was bad enough. 

In response, Blake just rolled her eyes and smiled “I’m not Neptune.” 

Yang couldn’t help but laugh at that, the memories of the Vytal Festival and Team Sun’s struggle to beat team NDGO because of Neptune’s inability to get anywhere near H2O was still too fresh in Yang’s memory and much, much too funny. She had secretly hoped to get Sun and Neptune in the doubles round with herself and Weiss, just so Weiss could summon icicles and then for Yang to melt them with her semblance to send Neptune running. She would be lying if, due to the beginnings of her relationship with Weiss being at the Vytal Tournament which also coincided with more of Neptune’s attempted flirting with Weiss that Yang hadn’t felt jealous or ever so slightly motivated to not hold back if she ever got the sanctioned chance to punch him. Whatever, though, the past is the past. 

“I am, however,” Blake continued, “Slightly afraid of drowning.” Blake admitted, running her hand up and down her arm nervously as she peered into the water. 

“See? That’s why we’re perfect partners for each-other!” Yang threw her arm around Blake and pulled her close, she exaggeratedly pushed her free arm forwards and waved it across the space ahead of them like she was painting a picture as she spoke “We can bond over tons of stuff! Add “Not-Drowning” to the list, Blake!”

The Faunus giggled, adorably, and swatted Yang’s arm away as she smiled “You’re impossible. How have I survived a whole year with you as my partner?” Blake smiled, a kick to her tone finally settling in to reach a cheerful epitome. As Blake’s laughter died down, alongside Yang’s, she took on a more serious tone, but one laced with understanding and affection, retaining her smile as she spoke “You’re scared, aren’t you?” 

“Wow, you can read me like…those smutty books you read!” Yang smiled cheekily and Blake just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, though, yeah. I am. Kinda.” Yang admitted, exhaling to try and release the tension from her body that her jokes and laughter had failed to do. “I’m worried that we won’t make it through this. There’s a lot riding on us to succeed and if we fail…nobody will be any the wiser.”

“We made it through the Attack on Beacon, Yang. We’ve taken down organized crime Syndicates, Terrorists, violent extremists and hordes of Grimm. Today isn’t going to be any different, and neither is any other day. So long as work together, and remember why it is we fight, we can’t fail.” 

“Looks like you were right, you are becoming Team Councillor. You know, if the whole Huntress thing goes bust with those Robots Atlas are making, you’d make a great Therapist.” Yang complimented, though Blake wasn’t too sure she felt all too comfortable at Huntsmen positions becoming automated and being made redundant. 

“I’m not too sure about that, Yang. I’ve got…plenty of emotional hang-ups.”

Yang nonchalantly brushed off Blake’s point with a whinny of her lips and gestured as if to wave the point away. “You’ve been coming into your own, Blake. You’re more confident, outward and talkative compared to when we first met you. Oh sure, you’re gloomy and we have to drag you out the room for anything other than class, but at least that’s an option now!” Yang mocked, and elbowed her partner teasingly in the side. 

“I’m sorry, am I the team councillor, or are you?” Blake said dryly, smirking to herself before elbowing Yang back as compensation.

“If you ever need a kick up the butt, I’m happy to help, I’m the team Mum by this point!” Yang said, bubbly. 

“Just be gentle, I bruise easily.” Blake quipped, and they shared a moment of laughter, just the two of them; just like old times before girlfriends had ever become involved.

They then both finally looked down to the body of water before instinctively moving to hold the other’s hand and close their eyes

“Ready?” Yang asked, pensively.

“As I’ll ever be.” Blake confirmed. In that instance, they both simultaneously took their step off the edge of the pier, and dove into the water, floating downwards into the ocean’s depths hand-in-hand. 

 

It took several seconds for Yang’s eyes to adjust to the lack of natural or artificial light underwater. It was dark and murky; the shapes of objects being obscured by the light being refracted through the water and made it nearly impossible for the blonde to discern the shapes of anything no matter how close it was to her. Fortunately, she was still holding tightly to Blake’s hand, who was just so lucky enough to be a Faunus who benefitted from her natural gift of improved sight that seemed to work underwater. She prodded forwards with her free hand to gesture in the way for them to swim. They swam in tandem together, using each-other’s free arm to compensate for the one’s locked together to make sure they didn’t lose each-other, or more accurately, for Yang to lose Blake. After traversing the ocean for a few minutes, they discovered the entrance Roman had informed them about along with Red and Silver, the former impatient whilst the latter did his best to try and keep the Fox-Faunus in place so she didn’t run off alone. 

The drainage pipe was gigantic, as to be expected to fit a submarine filled with a small White-Fang army, around thirty feet in radius. Furthermore, as explained by Torchwick there was no seal or blockage to indicate the piping had been closed off like the official story claimed. It made Yang’s blood boil, to know there were corrupt politicians was one thing; to know they were working hand in hand with terrorists and megalomaniacs who wanted to destroy civilisation as a whole, killing millions, was enough to flare her semblance even underwater, though it did quickly flicker and die due to the fact they were submerged underwater. It was baffling to think for a second that somebody could be so blind and self-destructive to essentially take bribery to allow enemies of the state to plot to destroy the whole kingdom for some lousy Lien. Didn’t they care about other people? Did money mean that much? Were all politicians just psychopaths? Viridian was practically a psychopath in her desire for blood and gore, but even she had a sense of perspective and wanted to preserve Silver and her team. The men and women who had sanctioned this were worse than despicable, they were scum. More names to add to Yang’s “Kick the shit out of list” for daring so arrogantly to play with people’s lives like they were some chips at a poker game. It was disgusting, and the blonde would make sure their gamble would come back to bite them. 

A sudden realisation finally dawned on Yang: that she was finding it increasingly difficult to hold her breath underwater, reaching her limits despite the fact she and Blake had yet to pass the fresh-hold of the White Fang’s secret entrance. She couldn’t hold it back any longer, her instincts and lungs screaming for inhalation and exhalation to fuel them with oxygen and her lips acquiesced and compromised to this demand. Yang didn’t experience the tell-tale symptoms she had associated with drowning, however. There was no filling of her lungs with water, no strangling and choking sensation at the continued lack of air being readily and constantly exchanged within her aerobic system for carbon dioxide. Instead, her initial struggled subsided and she floated there, mystified as to why she wasn’t being dragged down by the added weight of water filling her lungs. She looked over the Blake, still as stupefied as before and saw the Faunus roll her eyes back towards her.

Yang was admittingly soured at being treated so dimly by her partner, ruffled by the idea Blake was unperturbed by the idea of drowning like Yang was or failed to sympathise with her partner’s fear after having confessed her dread of exactly the thing Yang fretted over. Blake then lifted up her free hand that she had been using to generate her side’s momentum and let a spark of aura flash down it whilst pointing to her own closed mouth.

Immediately Yang was struck with realisation and felt all the denser then she had ever given herself credit, although not all the blame lied with her lack of intelligence so much so as her decision to ignore and fail to pay attention to all of Glynda Goodwitch’s (and by extension Weiss’ due to her own ramblings on whatever topic they were studying) lectures on the topic of aura manipulation. As it would turn out, aura was not simply effective at undoing and preventing grievous injury, but also acting as an innate survival mechanic. This could be evidenced through many first-hand accounts and examples, but the best of which was currently applied to Yang through aura siphoning Oxygen from outside, and surrounding, the body and replacing the steadily decreasing oxygen inside the body if the subject in question was asphyxiating. It wasn’t as glamourous or fundamentally infallible as it sounded, contrary to that it was quite the unpleasant scenario to be subjugated to, although Yang was thankful of the fact it was better than drowning. It didn’t feel like ordinary breathing, rather it felt more akin to simply not drowning, as if Yang was constantly holding her breath to the point where her head was going to pop from the inwards pressure and desire to breathe; but it was then reverted as the Oxygen was replaced right at the last second as a reprieve. 

By all means from an outside perspective it was nothing to be complained about and as a matter fact it would be considered by many to be a valuable commodity to not drown. Furthermore, the numerous benefits would revolutionize many facets of society due to the innumerable ways aura can increase efficiency and outright eliminate some prevalent dangers to the average person. It wasn’t just monster hunting that could be improved by the manifestation of the soul. 

Yang however, was currently failing to agree with that observation. She was irrefutably not enjoying the whole “suffocation-but-not-suffocation” experience. Although, it wasn’t like Yang wasn’t already familiar with the sensation of a frequent and constant pain that felt draining, most of the lectures at Beacon (namely Port and his near-endless and excessively and increasingly implausible tales of his many adventures, citation sorely needed) tended to wear down her mind like a piece of chalk that had been used one too many times. Perhaps not the ideal or identical level of mental or physical torment, but to Yang the sensations were equally as disruptive and painful. 

It was, fair to say, extremely uncomfortable. Her entire chest and head tightened on a reoccurring cycle, the same obstinate pain that repeated every sixty seconds or so. Yang, however, was easily as stubborn. She had a goal, one that she wasn’t about to capitulate on after yielding to some minor discomfort. If this discomfort was all she had to in order to break Lucian’s face and make him regret hurting her little sister, Yang was all the happier to soldier on. Nothing worth obtaining was ever easy or without its fair share of difficulties.

Regardless, it eliminated the need to resurface for oxygen, and the combination of Yang, Blake, Silver and Red pressed onwards through the drainage pipe. Yang began to realize along with her partner just how long the pipe was. It was by no means a quick journey. Silver needed to flash ahead with his semblance just to get a reasonable degree of awareness for how long they would be swimming for. The fact they had to wait, his image minimising and contracting continuously until only the briefest and slightest burst of silver light implied he hadn’t been absorbed by the abyss of darkness that he had travelled into told the story of just how long down the pipe they needed to travel. 

It took somewhere around three minutes for Silver to teleport down the pipe and back both ways. He attempted to give them some sign of just how long of a trek it was going to be, but either he was poor at sign language or everyone else had no comprehension of sign language. From the random and seemingly arbitrary symbols he was trying to make there was no clear distinction as to what he was trying to convey. He settled on pressing forward a single finger, which Yang assumed meant a mile, given how long it had taken him to teleport back and forth but there was still no confirmation as to whether that was the actual distance or not. 

The drainage pipe was even darker than the ocean had proven to be, not even the superficial glow of the shattered moon illuminating the waters. Yang was entirely reliant on Blake’s improved vision, but even she was struggling to perceive objects through the murky waters, a testament to just how prolonged any hygienic activities had been enacted within the pipe. That thought made Yang want to vomit, though she managed to push the thought away with the subsequent idea of how that would even work with her aura active underwater, not something she wanted to see. Their only saving grace was the erratic flash of Silver and Red’s aura circulating across their bodies ahead, acting like the light projected by a Lure fish for them to follow towards the predator that was ready to consume them. The only difference between them and some unsuspecting minnow was they were highly-trained Huntresses and Huntsmen, knowing full-well what they were heading into; for the most part. 

After about a quarter of an hour of swimming, give or take, they finally reached a stretch of pure and clear water with a bright and sustained light restoring perception from up above them. A long, black strip of an object sat right at the top, blocking out some of the light and the shape of the source projecting it. 

From its shape, it was obvious this was the submarine, and as Silver gestured for them to head up, they were able to distinguish exactly what they had assumed it to be: A long black submarine sat just atop the water’s surface with a White-Fang logo emblazoned on either side of the vessel’s side. 

Subtlety be damned, this wasn’t an arrogant and ignorant display of pride; it was an acknowledgement of strength that was intended to strike fear in the hearts of anyone who was unfortunate enough to realize what it belonged to, and if they didn’t they would soon be introduced to it. 

Blake’s blood boiled at the sight, growling in the back of her throat that this was what the once great and heralded White Fang had been reduced to, guilt swimming like a school of fishes in her gut at the knowledge she had played a part in bringing their violent nature to prominence and popularity amongst her kind. A group of violent extremists who no longer cared for equality. All they wanted was dominance. Blake knew this was her penance for brash decision making in her youth, thinking that a sword could ever bring about dialogue on even-ground. She knew that was naïve now. She knew that’s what her parents had been trying to tell her all those years ago when she first picked up Gambol Shroud in anger, passion and impatience. This was her wrong to right, her sin to atone for. Once that was done, maybe she could look Ruby in the eye as an equal and claim to be something akin to what Ruby idolized and perhaps even saw her as: a hero. Maybe that was just more naïve idealism, but she had to try. Blake knew exactly what Ruby would say, and that acted to fuel her determination and resolve:

“We have to stand up and be counted for doing what’s right! There’s always going to be doubts in our minds, but that’s okay, that means we’re human. We’re here to protect people from what would do them harm, so long as that’s our goal we can’t go wrong!”

It made Blake smirk, momentarily subsiding her anger and guilt at all her incorrect and ill-conceived life decisions. Ruby truly was a shining beacon for all to look up to in troubled times, a true leader and hero who perhaps looked at the world too innocently; too much in black and white terms, but it was that innocence and drive that made sure Ruby never strayed from her path and always made the moral and ethical decision. It was the source of her bravery and strength to fight for what was right and never surrender and, slowly, it was becoming Blake’s source of strength too. 

The makeshift team finally opted to swim back up to the surface, Yang gratefully gasping for air as well as panting gluttonously, a look of deliverance written across her face at finally being able to draw in breath naturally. Yang, Blake and Silver were happy to absorb themselves in this minor reprieve, collectively agreeing nonverbally that the whole process of “Air-rejuvenation” via aura was a uniquely uncomfortable experience if preferred to genuine drowning. 

Red, meanwhile, didn’t consider or be particularly concerned about recognizing the issues surrounding how aura functioned underwater or for that matter; her teammates uneasiness regarding it. It was an inconsequential problem, one that proved to have little weight or effect on their physical well-beings or the course of their mission, so to her, they needed to pull themselves together and get a proper sense of perspective about where they were or what was transpiring. 

They were inside the White Fang’s lair, and what was more, they were attempting a negligent and inadequately orchestrated rescue attempt for Linen. She didn’t care so much about Blake and Yang’s response, they had no emotional investment in keeping Linen alive whatsoever. He was a stranger, somebody who could be replaced by a plethora of strangers of nameless and faceless Huntsmen and they would probably feel a greater sense of duty in protecting them. Whatever their motivations, be it revenge for friends and family, weren’t of an active concern of hers. 

Silver, on the other hand, he was wearing on a last nerve that had already been snapped and bent beyond recognition, Red’s disillusionment streaking across her face in a scowl directed at her leader. He was lagging behind herself, indulging himself in breathing! Red found it utterly frustrating how close Silver claimed to be with her lover and yet he didn’t seem to contain even one iota of the levels of impetus she had. She was reaching the point of bemoaning herself for not coming alone. Then she wouldn’t have anyone to weigh her down, pull her back or criticise her fervour for trying to save somebody she loved. How he could be so calm, so composed when no information had been forthcoming about Linen and only the worst could be assumed, was astonishing. More than that, it was infuriating. 

If it was Viridian there was no doubt Silver would be striving forwards with unparalleled vigour and transcendent rage as well as resolve. Yet here he was, exchanging a quick jibe and jest with Blake about cats in water and their apparent dislike for the situation, which Red mostly ignored, her ears burning with white noise in anger; fuelled by her indignant internal reflection at how hypocritical her so-called “Brother” was acting. Well, if that was the case, he just needed reminding of who he was and what responsibilities he carried perpetually on his shoulders. 

Red swam over to the edge of the rectangle of water inside what she could only consider to be the docking area for the loading and unloading of the submarine: a large open room with a high ceiling made out of grey concrete that had been weathered and worn down throughout what was obviously an extensive and burdened life for the secretive hideout (which came as no surprise given how it was unlikely any contractors had been called down to do maintenance, otherwise the concept of secretive would have become sorely mishandled) as it had cracks spiralling and shooting out the corners and across the ceiling of the room, the colour or lack thereof had faded from the room until it lacked any signs of life or existence. In fact, had it not been for the submarine sat in the centre of that body of water and the inordinate amount of shipping containers and boxes of Schnee Dust Company and Atlesian Naval and Military supply boxes of munitions, it likely would have given off the air of completely and totally abandoned. 

Red hauled herself up onto the edge of the solid ground surrounding them, struggling and cussing about her own lack of height in comparison to the six-feet of her infallible leader, and began squeezing the water soaked up by her long crimson hair. 

“Get a move on already!” She shouted, irascibility lacing her voice, and she bore her teeth that had been grinding back and forth for the better part of an hour. Her fox-ears straightened and turned to the side as a symbol of cautioning for anyone who was stupid enough to question her demand, clearly indicating for even the densest of her onlookers that was not prepared to be trifled with in any sense.   
Blake appeared to perceive this first, and wary of shattering the clearly fragile and still-burgeoning trust and friendship between them all by confronting Red (even if she didn’t appreciate how hostile the Fox-Faunus had been directing her words at them all night), swiftly hauled herself up to the same level as the shorter woman, shaking the moisture free of her head and ears. It wasn’t effective, but being wet really was the least of their worries.

“Take it easy, Red. Rushing isn’t going to help anyone.” Silver said before teleporting out of the water and up to the platform above it, crouching behind his teammate and reassuringly patting her shoulders. “We’ll find him. I promised you that, and I don’t go back on my promises.”

“Tch.” Red clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth disdainfully, shrugging off his attempts at discourse and kindness; turning to give him an icy stare. She wanted to make more of it, maybe hit out at him and expend some of the pent-up tension and anger in her body but she knew better than it. For one, Silver was a hand-to-hand expert, and would easily be able to counter any blows sent his way by a marksman who only got up close and personal to…well, maybe Red should keep those thoughts to herself. Now wasn’t the time, especially not when Linen’s life was on the line. Secondly, she may have been livid and even a little irrational but Red was by no means an idiot. She needed Silver’s help and trust if they were going to save Linen and take down the White Fang, assuming both were possible, even if she refused to admit it to herself or her leader. Hitting him may make her feel better short-term, but it would only prove disadvantageous as time went on. Besides, he was only trying to make her feel better, even if he didn’t realize she was finding it patronising and demeaning to be spoken down to like a child. He didn’t deserve such scorn. Not from her. “I know.” She said, finally, resignedly, fury dying down from the forest-fire it had been to smouldering embers. Silver didn’t seem to be phased by her anger, moving his hand from her shoulders to sit on her wet and dishevelled hair to stroke it down and reorganize it. She cooed, letting her brother’s hand dip in between her locks and massage her scalp, appreciating the small reprieve from what had been a night of constant emotional and physical agony. 

“Want a hood or something? Linen might think you’ve let yourself go when he sees you again.” Silver quipped, chuckling quietly to allow himself to gauge whether or not Red was in the right frame of mind to laugh.

“If I see him again.” She corrected, shuffling underneath his hand to signal she wasn’t done with his ministrations after Silver had momentarily stopped. 

“You will.” Silver added.

“How can you be so sure…?”

“We’ve been through worse. Remember when I got hit by that truck back in Menagerie?” Silver asked, sparking to life the memories from their mercenary days, a particular mission from two or three years prior where they were chasing down a group of corrupt Faunus who were stealing shipments of Dust from a start-up company based in Menagerie who were trying to give Faunus an opportunity to work under fairer conditions, unlike that of the SDC. Silver, in question, quite literally forgot the first rule of crossing a street when chasing the perpetrators in question: Look both ways, and got hit by a truck without activating his aura since he never saw it coming. 

“Doctors said you wouldn’t make it through the night.” Red nodded her head, solemnly. “Viridian couldn’t stop crying.”

“I pulled through.” Even with her back to the leader of team SLVR, she could still feel his smile; so easily disregarding how close he had come to his demise as if it had no effect on him whatsoever. It was bemusing to the Redhead, and yet oddly comforting that he could dismiss the notion and look on it positively. Perhaps they both saw death in different lights, maybe Red just feared it more than most. “Linen will pull through too, he’s not the kind of guy to leave us hanging.”

“He doesn’t really have a choice in the matter.” Red responded, but her voice lacked conviction for her own argument, faltering and sounding detached as she idly twiddled her own thumbs in deep thought, Silver’s argument winning over her and the more she considered their own avoidance of death she became acutely aware this wasn’t the first time she had worried so much. It likely also wouldn’t be the last, which came as a surprising source of comfort for the Fox-girl. Simply because it meant there were more fights to be had, more times to be concerned, and she wouldn’t lose the people she loved, yet.

She would cross that bridge when she came to it, she would have to, but now wasn’t that time.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Silver asked in response, though it sounded far more like a statement than it did a question, finally removing his hand from Red. Her own nearest appendage to him shot up as she twisted around; grasping Silver’s wrist, looking up to him with a faint but thinned smile, as if she lacked the strength of will to push it up and out. 

“Yes, it is.” They moved together instinctively, coupling their hands together before Silver pulled Red onto her feet and huffed playfully back at her. 

“No time like the present, in that case.”

“Oh my god…” Silver and Red turned around from their battlefield instincts at the sound of Blake’s muted incredulity. She was simply stood next to Yang, the blonde having generated the fires of her semblance to help everyone dry off quicker, who also activated Ember Celica whilst she scanned the surrounding area for any signs of activity that might have elicited Blake’s reaction.

“White Fang?” Yang inquired of her partner, as one half of SLVR stood to their flanks and examined the plethora of SDC and Atlesian military crates and containers that littered the expansive room. 

“No, it’s not…” Blake shook her head clear of whatever was racing through her mind and distracting her from properly communicating what had surprised her so. She walked ahead and spread her arms wide as she neared the nearest SDC container, a cobalt container emblazoned with the Schnee symbol; something both she and (especially) Yang had become extremely intimate with over the last twelve months. “They’ve been stealing SDC shipments of Dust and Atlas Military tech!” Blake said, a surprising morph in her disposition from her deadpan and stoic uniformity into an almost erratic and enthusiastic temperament. 

“Umm…Remnant to Blake? This isn’t anything new. Weiss told us the White Fang have been doing this forever.” Yang declared in an attempt to remind her partner of their shared history with their fellow teammate as well as the White Fang’s history of theft. 

“You even robbed a train of the stuff.” Silver reminded Blake, arms crossed and looking unimpressed with the cat-Faunus’s assertion. “Maybe oxygen deprivation is still a problem despite our aura’s attempts to prevent it.” He joked at Blake’s expense, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Blake shook her head enthusiastically “No! Listen,” Blake began “Dust makes sense, the White Fang always hated the idea that the SDC used our workers to mine Dust, and so they always tried to take it back for our own means and as a method to show the SDC the Faunus won’t be mistreated or take it lying down, but the weaponry? The Atlas tech? Do you know what that means?!” Blake said, mirth and excitement seeping into her voice. 

“General Ironwood has his head up his ass and hires incompetent soldiers to guard his munitions?” Silver responded dryly, raising his hand in conjunction with the point. However, his raised eyebrow implied he was finally finding some direction with Blake’s line of questioning as was interested in where she was going with it. 

“Maybe.” Blake grinned “But that means they needed weaponry, not just the fuel for it. And that means…” 

Silver’s eyes widened in realisation “They haven’t been given any by the senior council members of the Fang or their suppliers… and that means…” Silver paused and ran a hand through his hair, taken aback by the gravity of his epiphany and slightly embarrassed he had never considered the possibility, chuckling understatedly at what Blake had been alluding too, finally. “Sienna Khan hasn’t approved or given Lucian the go-ahead for his operation here.”

“And, why would she?!” Blake exclaimed, her usual wry smirk that would take a magnifying glass to locate was now foremost amongst her features “Adam’s faction killed innocents and justified aggressive and racist rhetoric against the Faunus and the peaceful members of the White Fang! They were clearly acting of their own accord and this proves it! They’re a splinter group of the White Fang! If we managed to inform Sienna, or my parents who have huge sway with her and the majority of the movements members, if we informed them, they could distance the White Fang from his actions and disenfranchise the fanatical Faunus from siding with Lucian!” 

“And that would go a hell of a long way to crippling Lucian’s operations in Vale and beyond.” Silver added with a nod in concurrence. 

“As well as weakening the White Fang in general.” Blake declared, her smile evident. 

This side of Blake, the elation evident in her countenance at finding a way to dismantle the violent and extremist wing for the faction and movement that she had grown disenfranchised from, aroused a reminiscent sentiment within the Wolf-Faunus. He equally had been disappointed with the methods of the White Fang even before they had become nothing more than a racialized terrorist group. It wasn’t born or prescribed from a non-violent disposition, obviously, since Silver was happy to implement those means wherever he saw fit. 

Instead, his aversion towards the White Fang was born from the perceived illogical basis for the White Fang’s methods. Upon its founding and initial doctrine of peaceful dialogue and discourse was commendable, but was clearly never going to culminate in results that were either one of two things. Firstly, progress significant enough that the time and work appeared substantial enough to justify the suffering of human rule and Faunus subjugation. Alternatively, improvements that proved small but persistently abundant enough that the same sense of progress was evoked from the Faunus. Humans clearly had no intention of budging from their position of power, and so the dialogue was only likely to end in friction between the two sides, frustration and ultimately the worsening of ties between the common folk of the Faunus of humans whom rarely had any real reason to despise each-other. 

Even at a young age Silver was capable of seeing the faulty, but respectable, stance of the Belladonna’s attempts at equality, and had become cynical to the Faunus rights movements. Silver thought similarly about the violent means imposed by Sienna Khan, and later Adam, and in the current instance; Lucian. Whilst it offered a chance at relieving some pressure and pain on his kind as well as making a living and expanding his mercenary connections, he was equally disillusioned with their modus operandi. Violence only breads fear and contempt. It was even more flawed; fostered and nurtured by the impatience and passion of the younger generations who wanted immediate change. But even Sienna’s views were respectable, she really wanted change for the better. She wanted equality. She, like many others, had grown tired of the constant and universal prejudice and the near everlasting lack of reform of wider society in Kingdoms to treat the Faunus as equals. A fire had been lit by the creation of the movement, and Sienna Khan had stoked the flames. Adam and Lucian were the natural conclusion: Race and species based supremacy, the very thing the movement had aimed at ending. The irony was palpable and the existence of it infuriating. 

Regardless, Silver could sympathise with Blake’s enthusiasm to strike at the heart of Lucian’s operations and hopefully bring an end to the violence that was becoming increasingly associated with the Faunus in general. The raven-haired girl carried a heavy guilt for instigating the forceful and aggressive change in the movement, it must have been difficult for her to see the fear created by the movement and not experience a sense of culpability. Not to mention the number of deaths via bombings, shootouts, raids; just to name a few methods. Guilt like that could be self-destructive, dangerous and corrupting, but it could also be engaging. A slap to the face to wake someone up to reality and show them that evils, and the ability to commit evil, are not so arbitrarily separated by a pair of animal ears or the absence of a tail. Evil was bread by the heart, by the thoughts, of men and women regardless of their affiliations or species. Blake was aware of that and it would act as an effective deterrent against falling victim to a utopian world image brought about by passion and naivety. At least, that was the hope Silver had for her. She had the chance to hopefully make up for her mistakes and begin setting out a better future for the Faunus, as a true icon everyone could look up to: Human and Faunus alike.

First the White Fang needed to be eliminated, and that would be easier said than done even with the newest revelation. 

“Okay, okay: White Fang aren’t as onboard as a group as first assumed and we can take advantage of the fact, that’s great,” Yang spoke up, holding her hands up to try and halt Blake and Silver’s collective excitement at finally discovering a opening in the White Fang’s armour “But that’s something to worry about later, we’re here for Linen, remember? One step at a time, you two.”

“I’m glad someone’s making sense…” Red muttered, loading her revolvers with some of the spare dust from the stolen SDC crates that were lying around. “Remind me to compensate Weiss when we get back, first and last time I’ll ever think about compensating a Schnee for their Dust…”

“Yang’s right.” Blake said, putting her hands on her hips and looking down to the ground below, aware she had perhaps gotten too carried away. “We have a job to do: Rescue Linen. Anything else can sit on the back-burner until he’s safe.” 

“See? I’m not just a pretty face.” Yang jested.

“It’s not the face that draws the attention…” Silver snickered quietly to himself, but loud enough to that Yang would be able to hear his snide remark and be irritated by it. 

“What was that?” Yang narrowed her eyes, the flickers of fire threateningly igniting around her shoulders and hair.

“You think it’s just coincidence the Ice Queen fell in love with you and is chest height?”

Yang attempted to respond, her mouth always quicker than her brain was at processing what was smart and what would be hazardous for her health (or more accurately, those around her) but the implication caught up with the blonde and her lips flapped wordlessly before hanging open, scarlet covering her face as she covered her cleavage with her arms in a not-too-subtle attempt to cover herself up. 

“Come on, it was just a joke. I forget you women are so self-conscious, sometimes…” Silver struggled in a bid to apologise, but the indifference and whimsy in his voice displayed he was too proud of his jibes to try substantially hard. 

“Silver?” Red said, flicker the chamber of her revolver into place and switching it between its separate elemental loadouts, eyes trained on the shift between the red and blue and black hues the trim of Wile and Deception gave off. 

“What’s up?”

“Can you shut up for, Oh I don’t know, five minutes? Otherwise I’ll pump you full of lead until you’re quiet.” Silver raised his finger with the intent to respond, but saw better of it. Perhaps mocking women for being women, however ironic he was being about it, with no genuine attempt to offend, wasn’t the smartest thing to do; especially when one was as agitated as Red was.

“…Maybe I should look for Linen while the three of you stocks up.”

“Maybe you should.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Silver.” A familiar voice blared to life with the static of speakers buzzing meekly underneath it as the sound of the voice echoed and bounced from wall to wall of the room. The voice, whilst new and not overly acquainted, was distinct and couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else. It had the self-assured, charismatic and venomous tone of Lucian. “There’s no need to look for Linen, I’ll bring him to you right away: Free of charge! Nobody will be able to say I’m not charitable, eh?” a chuckled followed over the speakers, Lucian was clearly enjoying toying with the four intruders with his ambiguity.

“He can hear us?!” Yang asked shocked and perplexed at the emergence of Lucian’s voice and its sudden appearance, activating Ember Celica and swinging her head left and right to try and suss out where Lucian, or anybody else who could be feeding him their location, was.

“Don’t be so surprised, Miss Xiao Long. This is our base of operations, you think I’d leave the place unguarded? Without safety measures? On the contrary: Every hallway, room and air vent are routinely monitored with cameras for visual observation and microphones for audio observation. As soon as you began conversing amongst yourselves I knew where you were and how many of you there are.” Lucian answered, confidently, his obsessiveness for fortification seemingly vindicated by Yang, Silver, Red and Blake’s discovery. “Besides, I knew you would be coming. Linen’s attempts at defiance when refusing to give me what I wanted informed me you’d try something so reckless and heroic. Of course, I assumed as much anyway. You could never quite let go of things, could you Silver? Always rushing into the burning house to save that one extra orphan even at the expense of your own body.”

“Where is he?! What have you done to Linen you bastard?!” Red screamed, fingertips frantically flexing and tensing around the grips of Wile and Deception as if she was fighting with the urge to try and intimidate Lucian with the firearms, whilst the conscious regions of her mind informed her of how futile the act would be given Lucian was only present as a disembodied voice broadcasting from another location of the facility. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he scathingly retorted, dismissing Red’s furious query, his voice condescending as always. “And why should I tell you anything? Last time I checked, you gave Linen up without so much as a drunken whimper. Hardly the veracity I had come to expect from someone such as yourself. I’d heard innumerable tales about the sure-shot Fox Faunus with a sleight of hand so fast most men weren’t aware you’d even shot them. A woman of brutality, slicing the necks of those she’d charmed into her bed only for the goal of using them for her own means, myths of your origins stating you were named Red from the amount of blood stained on your beautifully manicured hands, wading from waist-deep rivers of plasma you had directly drained from your victims. Tales so devastatingly brutal that the connotations of a Fox don’t suit you by itself; the Vampire of Vaccuo was always my favourite title of yours. Loving a human had made you weak, you should be thanking me for reigniting that spark within you.”

“I’ll thank you with a god-damned bullet-hole!” She shouted back, the intensity of her voice doubling with a primal growl accompany her words. “Give me back Linen damn it!”

“In due time, in due time. However, until I can arrive in person to talk to you all, how about I send my welcoming committee? I think you’ll find they’re rather…hospitable.” Lucian snickered, his tone changing into a sinister one coupled with a sadistic edge as the speakers for the room cut out.

The doors to the outside of the room burst open, some sliding open from their electronic designs with a cluster of corresponding beeps of the door panels; while the more archaic metal doors were kicked open violently, a stream of dozens of White Fang members filtered into the room armed to the teeth: Grenades lining bandoliers, various automatic firearms and armaments like rifles, shotguns, pistols, Gatling guns, light machine guns amongst other assortments of weaponry that could only be described by Yang as imposing. She’d imagine this would be the kind of situation Ruby would love to be in so she could faun over the catalogue of weapons both of the conventional and the unconventional in the form of collapsible melee/ranged hybrids such as her own sniper-scythe Crescent Rose. Or she would have been, if the threat of death wasn’t such a persistent factor, anyway. 

“Walking into a trap and discovering a covert operation intending to destroy an entire kingdom, just another day for team RWBY…” Yang sighed, flicking down Ember Celica to activate and prepare her shotgun gauntlets for the ensuing fight that was about to place. 

“I really don’t like how you can say that so unironically.” Silver responded, keeping an eye on the enemy troop movements as they sought to encircle the four intruders with no gaps to escape through or exploit without pressing to tightly force them into action, simply keeping them at a distance for the time being.

“You get used to it.” Blake quipped in her monotone, yet droll, manner of speech before drawing out Gambol Shroud, only to collapse the katana into its pistol variation, raising it to take aim at a squad of Faunus directly ahead of them, each member of their makeshift team taking one of four different directions to watch so they couldn’t be attacked by surprise. 

“That’s kind of the problem.” With a shrug of his shoulders to signify his disbelief at the members of team RWBY at how used to such absurd circumstances they were, although he considered that perhaps at indication at just how unique they were. Only three quarters of their team qualified as legal adults (legal being the operative word, he wasn’t sure Weiss could survive by herself without a large cheque from her family to keep herself afloat) and yet they had taken down criminal organisations, beaten back and disrupted White Fang operations and taken on some of Salem’s most trusted men and women. It was a testament to the shared talent between them, most obviously encapsulated by the contagious positivity of Ruby Rose that bled through her fellow teammates, even when going into battle and with vengeance on the periphery Blake still managed to wear an upbeat and optimistic smile on her face. She wasn’t probably aware of it, she’d more than likely be embarrassed to share such a trait as the youngest member of her team so openly; but it was clear as day to anyone who took the time to notice it. Silver thought that smile suited Blake. He didn’t know the extent of the relationship between the Faunus and the brunette, or better yet; lacked evidence to arrive at the conclusion he thought the likeliest; but it was clear Ruby was a positive influence on Blake, opening her up and helping her become more honest. She was beginning to resemble the thing she enjoyed as a hobby: An open book. All the more reason to rid the world of Lucian quicker, vengeance could be a dangerous and corrupting factor in one’s life. Blake didn’t need that, it was that very thing that had driven Adam into his deranged and psychopathic crusade against humanity. 

“Form of attack, boss?” Red asked, more out of habit than desire. She was grinding her teeth back and forth anxiously, Linen’s safety and welfare clearly working her down to her last nerve. It was apparent the girl wanted to run wild, forgo adherence to strategy and simply gun down every Faunus guilty of aiding and abetting Lucian’s capture of her lover as her own form of justice. 

“You and Blake stay back, your weapons have better effective range, can pin them down, whittle their numbers down and won’t activate any of the Dust crystals or explosives shipped from Atlas, I’ll run defence and make sure nobody gets close to either of you, and Yang…” Silver smirked, catching the enthusiastic gaze and mirroring smile the brawler was sending back his way, cracking her knuckles against her palm. “Break a leg or two.”

“Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading and I hope you enjoyed as ever.
> 
> Firstly I want to apologise since I said this would be the end to the current arc of the story, but this chapter turned out...far bigger than intended (over 9000 words). This also obviously happened with the "Paint the Town Red and Black" chapters. I put this down to my growth as a writer with exploring my characters thoughts and feelings as well as descriptive skill. Not claiming I do that well, just I've made solid improvement. As a result, longer chapters, but I'm not comfortable dropping a 20,000 single chapter. For once, it's discouraging and draining to write something like that since it feels like I'm making no progress, so chopping up the chapter into shorter variants I find is better psychologically and aesthetically. It also fits the narrative better if they are of a similar size (I say, after pointing out how long this one is). 
> 
> This isn't so much me complaining, it's not something I'm overly frustrated by, just wanted to inform those who follow this story and read the updates as and when they come out that I'm sorry for anyone expecting the conclusive pay-off scene of the arc to arrive and then be told "Ah, just another classic cliffhanger like always". I imagine that can be annoying for some. Or maybe I'm worrying over nothing, haha.
> 
> Since this ended up being more of a set-up chapter like last time, not much action-wise occurred. We get a bit of banter between everyone, showing how they're growing on each-other and becoming closer. Brothers in arms tend to bond quickly in the face of adversity, but there are still some sceptical reactions, namely from Blake, about SLVR's trustworthiness, as their naturally would be.
> 
> Some focus on Red as well and her thoughts on Linen, besides Silver his teammates haven't gotten too much of a focus (Viridian has some, and I have big plans for her, oh, very big plans indeed), now obviously this is because this isn't their story alone and development can come when necessary, but it's important to understand her perspective on things especially when they concern her centrally. She's not as traditionally heroic as Silver is, she cares for self-preservation above all. Dying would only validate the abuse and mistreatment she's received as a Faunus, she wants to cling to life not out of value of her circumstances but because death would rob her of what little she has. I've made the point she's religious, but even she would be sceptical as if she would be rewarded for her deeds. She's done some bad stuff, as alluded to by Lucian. This acts as further motivation to not perish. 
> 
> Blake is slowly becoming more Ruby-esque, thinking positively and optimistically. I'm just teasing you relentlessly, aren't I? Don't worry, that will all be addressed soon. 
> 
> Silver's explanation about his distanced stance on the White Fang is explained: He considers both the peaceful movement and violent movement to be doomed to fail, although he has no alternative of his own, merely criticisms of how they operate. 
> 
> Lucian with fighting words and jabs at Red's character, he's gearing up for a fight, hoping to weaken and exhaust our heroes so he can finish the job. Conniving little so-and-so. 
> 
> Onto the conclusion next time. Hopefully. Will Linen be saved? Can they defeat Lucian? Only time will tell...


	28. The Unexpected Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viridian awakens from her slumber to explore Beacon's grounds, only to have a life-changing proposition offered to her.

Viridian walked upon the cold, lifelessly devoid of colour, surface of the stone pathways that were littered around Beacon, a cool wash of breeze regularly kicked her moderately lengthy Raven and Gold tresses of hair into a stream behind her head, before gracefully collapsing onto her back just for the process to begin anew once the wind slid past her. Viridian was only wearing her sea-foam green dressing gown, having changed herself into her night-attire in one of her few lucid moments of consciousness after having been drained by the usage of her powers. Weiss along with any combination of JNPR had been keeping a steady eye on her, but always maintaining their distance from her.

She knew why. You don’t get close to monsters or freaks, lest they lash out at you.

She was comfortable with the treatment as an “other” by this point. She had to be, it wasn’t like she was close enough to polite society nor functional enough to even consider prejudices or judgements on her as anything that carried any weight. However, something was beginning to change since her (almost) mundane life at Beacon had began, a niggling feeling in the back of her head that, for once, didn’t belong to the symphony of chaos ringing inside of her head. It sounded, oddly enough, like her own voice. If she didn’t know any better she may have thought it was some inner monologue of her own. This voice, this lone speaker, sounded frustrated at being ignored and pushed away as well as lonely; seeking validation and comfort; warmth and friendship, and yet equally so it was insecure and scared about confronting its own internal conflicts.

It was unlike any experience Viridian had really ever known. Of course, there was similar reactions at times when she was with her family, her team, but she chalked this down to the exception and not the rule. They were her anchors, her reason for life, even a psychopath couldn’t forgo even some form of human connection that wasn’t routed in their own lust for immoral acts. But now she felt, quite simply, bad about making everyone feel awkward around her. For making them feel scared and at risk being near a serial-killer with a pathological obsession with death and who gained some twisted pleasure from a perverted perception of beauty she associated with the killings of other people.

She was confused, although that by itself was nothing new. Obviously, being so warped beyond normality she had lagged behind her contemporaries in her cognitive development considerably, but this confusion felt more unnatural to her. More foreign. 

The least she could do was give them space as she tried, however much it would prove in vain, to understand and solve however this new sensation had come about. 

The ground was cold beneath her feat, and the breeze did little to alleviate the biting chill that was beginning to permeate from the tips of her fingers and deeper into her body still. With an almost indifferent sigh, she activated her Maiden’s powers. Purple flames sparked to life atop her eyes, glowing like a lantern in the darkness; flowing like the tide at night. With the faintest flick of her index finger, light emanated from the void; crackling and bursting into a fireball no bigger than her own palms. It floated around her, darting from place to place and never staying put; though never departing more than a few inches above the surface of Viridian’s own skin so as to provide her with adequate warmth. Once she was satisfied with the heat-source, Viridian carried on her stroll of solitude.

“Warm. Like Silver’s hugs. Big dumb wolf, leaving me all by myself, don’t be gone too long…” she dryly chuckled, before light-heartedly lamenting the fact Silver’s form of humour was rubbing off on her. It had only taken the better part of a decade and a half to happen as well.

Viridian ventured without much purpose or destination in mind. This was her default mindset in dealing with anything: lingering on a thought or how to solve a problem only proved a frustrating and unnecessary process. Maybe it was a natural result of being gifted with so much power she could simply eliminate any problem that posed a physical threat or encumbrance on her, and so she had little patience for anything that couldn’t be solved with brute force. Or perhaps she simply lacked the education and intelligence to really plan ahead, she could barely read words with more than two syllables, making her functionally illiterate, how could she expect to formulate a proper life philosophy or detailed plan on what to do with herself? It seemed unrealistic for her.

Eventually after passing through several of the courtyards Beacon had cluttered around it, Viridian eventually found herself on one of the higher-tiers of walkways that overlooked the more natural greenery and pathways on the ground-floors of the academy. She could appreciate the level of detail and massive undertaking that must have been involved in the construction of Beacon; even if it was on a purely superficial level. Linen had appeared enamoured with the layout and design along with the history associated with the building upon their first arrival; speaking highly of it with a keen eye that could pick out the smallest of details that came across as almost fictional to the Summer Maiden, although even she could understand this was just the gulf in intelligence that existed between Viridian and her sibling. She was admittingly jealous of his perception and penchant for absorbing knowledge at an unnatural rate.

Viridian thought the school looked pretty, the pale moonlight gave everything a faintly silver glow that reminded her of her lover and guardian. It brought a thin but prominent smile to her face, a small sigh escaping her lips in both momentary pleasure at being allowed a reprieve to just sit back and think about him, but also in melancholy at his absence. Whilst it wasn’t necessary to bear repeating Silver was very much her crutch and stabilizing entity. Without him she naturally found herself pivoting towards irritability and blood-thirstiness, her desire to kill and maim acting up like an itch she simply couldn’t scratch. Although this was less prominent than prior to her team’s enrolment in Beacon. It was more of an annoyance to her than some heavy feeling of withdrawal like she was a Heroin addict. She wasn’t sure what was creating or reinforcing her reluctance to give in and revert to her primal and psychotic urges, but it was evident something had changed. Maybe it was some sense of responsibility, maybe it was the newfound medication Ozpin’s physicians had been prescribing her, maybe it was the thought of disappointing Silver and ruining the chance at simplicity he, Red and Linen all had desired for so long. Or maybe she was just becoming more human; more empathetic.

She chuckled at the last thought, that had to be a bad joke.

“Something troubling you, Miss Aurora?”

Viridian felt a chill role up and down her spine, one sensation after the other, at the unmistakeably cryptic voice of Professor Ozpin. Viridian had been growing accustom to that voice, after all of their sessions where Ozpin had slowly been revealing the context behind Viridian’s powers and the secret history of the world shielded from regular society (at a slow enough pace the Summer Maiden could follow), but never comfortable with it. His word choice and demeanour were clearly amiable and welcoming to his students, but it was laced with that voice; and an ambiguously hidden agenda behind it all. He just didn’t sit right with Viridian. Something was off about him, something uniquely unnatural. If it wasn’t just the presentation that warranted her suspicion, his limitless knowledge on the Maidens, their powers, Salem, the Relics; and everything in between surely did. Who was he? What did he represent? Where did he come from…?

“I…couldn’t sleep.” A half-truth, Viridian muttered, half-turning to face Ozpin as she began before turning away back to the view of the courtyard after seeing his impassive face mixed with warm features.

She didn’t want to tell him she was concerned about Silver, Red, Linen, Yang or Blake, mainly because what they were doing was unsanctioned and potentially grounds for being expelled, and Viridian was by no means a good liar. She was frank, blunt and an open book about everything she talked about. Red had taught her a little about deception and guises of language, but she was a practitioner of rhetoric at best.

Ozpin swirled his mug of coffee, looking down contemplatively before his features morphed into amusement. 

“I personally find that an evening stroll eases a troubled mind myself.” Ozpin finally answered, his footsteps- footsteps that somehow strangely failed to make noise before he had announced himself to Viridian- reverberated as he walked towards a bench and took a seat, motioning for Viridian to join him. “And speaking one’s mind does wonders as well.”

“My mind certainly is troubled…” the Maiden responded, her self-depreciative humour managing a grim smile.

Viridian may not have been as intelligent as Linen, as suspicious and sceptical as Silver, or socially-savvy as Red, but she knew this was a battle of wills. Ozpin’s gesture was innocent enough by itself, but the intent was transparently different. The offer was to draw Viridian near, give her the choice to place herself both physically and figuratively closer to the older man and in equal measure reduce the distance between the two of them. It would force Viridian to open up, confess, and confide. She could say no, and choose not to cede the advantage to him, to force the distance to remain, but that was a defensive display. It would prove there was something wrong, something worth prying into. What’s more, perhaps the strangest aspect of all, she felt guilty just at the thought of rebuffing Ozpin’s offer.

‘Guilt? What the heck is this? I can feel…guilt? At nothing?’

Viridian was stumbled by her own emotions, her own thoughts, finding her breath hitch in her throat, before raggedly returning to its stoic and rhythmic pace. It was all so new, so bizarre and confusing. She didn’t feel awake, but everything felt sharper and contrasted with the chaos and disorderedly inconsistent world she had lived her whole life knowing. She looked down to her shaking palm, the hand wounded with the crescent-shaped burn, skin paling unnaturally, the wound she had marked with the day her Mother died and she had been cursed with unholy powers and a fractured mind. Even with that ever-present memory that transcended her insanity, it still felt obscured like it was covered by a veil of rainwater. She held on, clung, to that memory like it was the only grounding her life had. The only thing worth remembering, not that she had much to remember besides that. It was all so hazy, barely any clarity ever to anything that even flashed across her mind. Everything up to this stage could have been an illusion and Viridian wouldn't even have an indication it was. Maybe it was all an excuse to not move on from her grief. Truth be told she had never been blessed with the opportunity to mourn her Mother, her Father, anyone really. Maybe it was time to finally start letting go.

“What the heck is wrong with me…?” Viridian asked herself quietly, her head thumping with a migraine at her own unexpected introspection. 

“Feeling the effects of our sessions have we, Miss Aurora?” Ozpin’s voice chimed in, and the girl finally swivelled to face him, finding his smile an infuriating feature in how self-assured and arrogant it seemed. 

“Effects…? What are you talking about? I thought was were training me to use my powers better. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Viridian asked, bemusedly, through gritted teeth.

Ozpin’s initial response was one of humour, finding it somewhere in what Viridian had said, though she had no idea what could elicit his brief chuckle.

“In a manner of sense, yes. I have been sharing what little power I can with you whenever we have found privacy. It’s not much, but thanks to our own inherent connection fortunately I can relieve you of your…damages, shall we say.” 

Ozpin stopped there, taking an exasperatingly long time to sip from his drink in what Viridian thought was a deliberate attempt to provoke her into attacking him. She had killed for less. So why not now?

“It seems you’re beginning to grasp my meaning. As you well know by now, I am the one who gifted your predecessors with their powers. Maidens like your yourself, Amber, and many others have been the result of a selfish decision I took centuries ago.” Ozpin chuckled, interrupting himself. “Selfish is all a matter of perspective I suppose, at the time I thought I was sharing power with humanity that would only help you. Now it seems it is being used against us, all of us. The more I think back on it, the more I believe I was just trying to pass the burden onto younger shoulders. Hardly the worst sin I have committed but one all the same.” 

Ozpin once again broke his own line of thought, waving off the topic like it was nothing. 

“As I was saying, mental frailties and wounds are no different to physical and emotional ones, they just require a different form of healing. Aura can help, especially when manipulated by an external source with transcendent powers, like ourselves, but more than anything your recovery requires compassion. Sensitivity. Affection and serenity. I cannot promise a perfect recovery, even once healed wounds can still scar and impair; especially when left untreated for so long, but those effects can be mitigated and lessened with proper treatment. A calm existence with your team and friends can help achieve this, but it is by no means an easy path, nor a short one. Dealing with newfound levels of conscience and self-awareness can be…difficult, at the very least. I have hope you will be successful, however. The students you are surrounded by are some of the best, and I don’t mean just in combat.”

“You’re…you’ve been…healing me? My mind?” Viridian said, not dismissively, but the amused resonance that accompanied her query mixed with her disbelief created an air of dismission. 

“Not exactly. It would be more accurate to say I have been facilitating your own ability to use your mental capacities. As I said, because of the bond of our powers I am capable of manipulating a Maiden’s aura to repair them when they are incapable of doing it themselves. Some wounds, of course, are too great for a total fix or even recovery all-together and the best I can do is keep them breathing for a while longer. It’s not different, of course, for your mind. From the look upon your face, I can tell it is a strange sensation to think deeply, and feel empathetic towards others.” 

Ozpin’s explanation was on the money, in fact it was so accurate it gave Viridian the idea he was currently swimming through her own head just to acquire that conclusion. That made her feel uncomfortable, violated, but another part of her raised an appropriate response: Would she have felt violated before with her previous primitive mindset and lack of conscience? That scared her more, that it wouldn’t have bothered her.

“As I said, I can only facilitate your faculties activation, I cannot undo the layers upon layers of repressed memories or cracks to the foundations of your psyche. I have to stress, Miss Aurora, this is not a quick and total fix. I can assist recovery, undo some damage; but your sadism, appreciation for death and mental illnesses will never fade away, not entirely, with just my help alone. If you want to be the person you were destined to be: The one Silver wants you to be, you must confront your own past and grievances with an open mind and find the answers you need to set it all to rest once and for all. In Beacon Academy, you have your family and friends and a warm environment that can begin to redirect your personality away from a merciless killer and back towards Viridian Aurora. You can finally understand what it’s like to be normal, and won’t have to slaughter for survival.” 

“Is that…really possible?” Viridian asked, gulping back some instinctual fear. Ozpin was talking like an omniscient, and practically omnipotent, deity. In his wake, in the wake of the evidence provided through her sense of lucidity, it was starkly real and terrifying. Ozpin calmly nodded his head in response. 

“I know precisely of the pains you have felt Miss Aurora, intimately so.”

Viridian sneered, she didn’t like the idea Ozpin had any idea about who she was. What she's suffered through. She had dealt with innumerable types of pain, both as a direct result of her own actions and those of external sources. He could never know her that well.

“What would you know about me and what I’ve been through?! Who do you think you are?! You don’t know anything about me, or what I’ve suffered from! Nobody does! Nobody can tell me what it’s like to hear a thousand voices screaming for you to stab yourself in the hand for a mistake!” Viridian seethed, baring her teeth at Ozpin like a wild animal trying to protect its territory. Except this wasn’t any territory, this was the one thing Viridian feared above all else. Being brought to the same level as another. Because that meant she could relate, understand, and they could do so in equal measure.

Ozpin could plainly see she wasn’t as much of a deranged lunatic as she had people believe.

She was a scared and lonely girl, hiding behind an excuse to ignore her actions.

“I have watched countless students, friends and families under my care have their time on this world extinguished callously without reason. I see them everywhere I go. Their ghosts, their spectres. When you are the vanguard of humanity and status quo, you become numb to emotions over time. But the pain is always there. The regret. I’ve seen countless people before exactly like yourself. And their pain, their suffering, is agonising to watch. Especially as I have suffered it myself.”

Ozpin’s clear and honest admission, opening up the window into his soul (even if only slightly) so unrepentantly stunned Viridian, his remorse aroused pity from the Maiden, her eyes wide and lips parted. His hands shook, clearly only just about capable of holding back the pain and emotion that no doubt would have driven many a good man to the brink, never to return.

“Silver told me of your Mother. Dawn was a student of my own prior to your conception. She was a good woman.” 

“Silver…told you? About...m-my...M-Mother…?” Viridian’s voice shook, all pretence of a psychopath had faded, and all that was left was a scared and lonely child whom had been hidden behind a barrier of shadows and the point of a blade to protect herself. The girl whose trauma was so devastating, forced to see so much mind-warping horror, that the voice of the terrified and deserted child had been smothered for so long, finally seemed to make its way to the surface.

“In exchange for your safety, for your immunity and protection under me, he told me of your Mother’s demise to the best of his abilities. It is sad to know she died the way she did and I cannot begin to imagine what you went through. I wish I could have alleviated you of even a little bit of that suffering, Miss Aurora.”

Viridian felt her eyes sting. Slowly the moisture from her eyes began rolling down her face and descending onto the stone railing she was using to steady herself. Hearing her Mother’s name, being reminded of her, having the horrifying and tormenting images of her death flash through her mind always reduced Viridian to an emotional wreck. But now there was something bittersweet, something redeeming behind her tears this time. It wasn’t just sorrow and despair: There was gratitude.

“Silver…he told you all about me, just to look after me? Just to protect me?” Viridian asked, her voice tentative as she prayed and hoped for once this wasn’t one of her fractured mind’s cruel games.

“Yes.” Ozpin answered, rising to his feet and approaching Viridian, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder in a kind gesture. If this were Viridian prior to arriving in Beacon, she would have ripped it off and beaten Ozpin to death with it. But right now, she didn’t have a desire to kill. She was, once again, grateful for the act of kindness. “He loves you a great deal.”

Viridian always had her doubts about Silver’s love. How true and honest it could be. Who could love a psychopath? Someone who cut people in half as regularly as a Farmer does to chaffs of wheat. It never seemed realistic. But even so, he still went to such great lengths for her. His entire motivation was for her. 

He really did love her.

“Did he not tell you that was the subject of our conversation during our first meeting?” Ozpin asked.

Viridian shook her head, chuckling quietly to herself. “No, I guess he didn’t want to burden me. He’s such a chivalrous dumby…” 

Ozpin finally drew his hand away, and cleared his throat, indicating the need to continue the crucial line of discussion they had previously been indulged in, and Viridian silently nodded in union with him. 

“Miss Aurora, believe me when I say just because the Maidens powers are the stuff of fantasy and Fairy Tale, do not assume the women who inherit them are perfect beings. I have come across many misfits in my time who adopted my gifts. You are not the first who I have helped in recovering their sense of self, and I hope you are not the last.” Ozpin’s words were foreboding, and with good reason. Viridian was well-aware of the war Ozpin had been fighting, she had been a willing participant on his side too having sent the White-Fang retreating single-handedly during the Attack on Beacon. If Salem had her way, Kingdoms, Huntsmen and Huntresses, Maidens; even humanity itself would come crashing down and vanish in an instant.

“I’ve never known what…normal even is. Everything I’ve done has been to stop those damned voices. To protect myself. To protect my family. I’m…scared. Really scared. Scared about who I am. What I think I am. All the things I’ve done, all the death, all the agony, all the pleasure because of it: can I live with that? With myself? Can I ever really be whatever normal even is?” Viridian asked, though her question wasn’t particularly directed at Ozpin in general, she was just vocalizing the thoughts that had always been present, even if she chose not to admit it.

“I don’t know, Miss Aurora, but I know this is your best chance.” Ozpin finally answered, leaving Viridian in her stupor and existential reflection momentarily before finally offering his take on the matter.

Viridian bit down on her lip as she thought about her powers and circumstances, every strand and thread of her character was in no way normal. Nothing could convince her normality was even accomplishable, but that didn't stop her wanting it. Wanting to just sit down with Silver and watch the world pass her by. To stop moving, stop carrying the burdens and weight that had been so cruelly assigned to her without consent. If there was a way to achieve that, even if it was an astronomically small chance of happening, she had to try and make it reality.

Her powers were part of the sum of a greater whole, a mechanism designed to protect the world from the clutches of a demonic being who’s only goal is to seemingly destroy anything that has arisen from nothing. She always had an idle curiosity about why she was different, but never particularly cared to explore it. Silver had encouraged her, helped her learn what they could, but it had always been rumours and hearsay; nothing concrete or straightforward. That was until they met Raven, and the former member of team STRQ illuminated the world to them. 

Even for Viridian, a girl with no sense of self-preservation, a psychopath with no empathy, the existence of Salem warranted total opposition. Salem’s destruction contrasted with Viridian’s: Salem sought power and control whereas Viridian wanted to appreciate beauty. Seeing something as transcendent and complex as life be snuffed away so quickly: it was euphoric. By no means was it moral, justified, or ethical but at least Viridian didn’t desire the deaths of everyone at all times. More than anything, it was a means to an end to protect the people she loved. The only people who didn’t look down on her with disdain and fear. The resentment she felt at only ever receiving fear at the sight of her probably only enabled and worsened her mental state, of this she was sure. Her family was the only real contrast with Salem, Salem sought to destroy and usurp for her own selfish wants. Viridian just wanted to protect those near and dear to her. If she got something out of it, felt pleasure and found a way to quieten the howling voices inside of her, who could fault her? In a way, whilst not normal, some people might possibly be able to sympathise with her. Who wouldn’t give in to such debased actions if it would lead to their suffering being reduced even remotely?

“We were attacked earlier tonight by the White Fang. They took Linen; Silver and Yang are leading a rescue to get him back. I’m worried about them. I always am. They’re my reason for life.” Viridian shattered their silence, finally admitting what Ozpin wanted to hear, her eyes trailing down to her bare feet. It seems Ozpin’s strategy was to reveal his own secrets, and as a result force Viridian to divulge her own. It was clever, and she could appreciate that.

“Like I told your leader the night we met: I am always aware of everything that goes on in my Kingdom. I have already dispatched someone to help them.” Ozpin responded, his smile growing slightly before he took another sip of his drink. Viridian should have been unnerved by his display of omniscience, but at this point it was the least of her concerns. Whatever Ozpin actually was, or used to be, he was still helping her. Looking out for her. So, she would put some faith in him.

“Thank you.” Viridian smiled. “I don’t know what I’d do without them. Silver and Red are strong, stronger than me in a lot of ways that matter more than fire and fury, but even I can see they both have a short-fuse.” Viridian giggled, her shoulders bouncing at some perceived humour that initially evaded Ozpin “That might not mean much coming from me of all people.”

“You’re most welcome Miss Aurora, both you and them are just as much my students as anyone else in this academy and I consider myself responsible for your safety even in an occupation as dangerous as the one the students of this establishment dedicate themselves towards. Although, I must confess Miss Aurora. I have my own motives for helping you recover from the trauma you suffered when your Mother died.”

“No doubt.” Viridian said, candidly. Her usual bright and cheery flutter to her voice and smile that had returned to her voice faded as she metered her behaviour back down to the neutral. Usually she’d be more carefree, childish even, but with her newfound clarity and memories of Silver’s teachings about how to conduct oneself when talking about delicate matters, she was capable of presenting herself more seriously. “I’d be right to think you basically let my team off the hook because of me and my powers, wouldn’t I?”

“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit, Miss Aurora.” Ozpin answered with a subtle and solemn nod of his head.

“Being around Linen rubs off of you, slowly.” She smiled. “I always enjoyed it when he’d teach me about stuff. History, Maths, even with what little he could teach me about reading. I never understood any of it, but I picked up on the formula he used for figuring stuff out. Not too hard to use in other places and problems.” Viridian explained.

“A born teacher. I have respect for someone like that, as I’m sure you can understand.” Ozpin responded, before his expression turned grimmer, graver. “With the death of the previous Fall Maiden and usurpation of her powers our enemies now have the key to the vault within this school. Whilst I have faith my students can protect it should they come seeking to unlock it, the attack at the Vytal Festival has proved to me our adversaries are cunning. They will undermine us, and seek to weaken our defences. We need a Guardian, someone who can stand toe-to-toe with a Maiden if push came to shove. You are currently the longest living Maiden, and have had the most frequent usage of your powers even if there has been no formal training to refine your deployment of them. I cannot afford to be fickle or indecisive, even with your unique circumstances. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I ask you, Viridian Aurora; will you be Vale’s Guardian against any dangers that would seek to destroy her?” Ozpin asked, finally standing to his full height, depositing his mug on the bench and placing both hands on top of his cane, in a regal-like stance. 

Viridian found herself chuckling, honestly chuckling. It was absurd. Patently absurd, that a supposedly centuries (if not millennia) old demi-god had been backed into a corner so deep he was asking a murderer of hundreds and international criminal to be the “Guardian” of an entire Kingdom. To protect people. To protect all of civilization. It was so ironic and contradictory she couldn’t help but laugh. Her? A girl who had been driven mad by grief and trauma, who had killed men in the streets with rusty and dull shivs for both fun and to pick-pocket to help feed Silver, Red and Linen was being asked to be the Arbiter of humanity. 

Viridian’s mirth quickly came to an end, and she turned her back on Ozpin, looking up towards the bright silver glow emanating off the shattered-surface of the moon above, watching as the colours and shapes shifted and distorted thanks to her troubled mind, before phasing back more seamlessly then she had ever experienced before. It was comforting, knowing there was something as broken as she was constantly fixed in the sky, almost like a distinct part of herself was observing every move she made.

“It’s funny. My whole life I’ve never been certain of anything other than how much I love Silver. You know, the first time he kissed me, I remember it vividly.”

Viridian’s eyes fluttered, a nostalgic countenance taking their usually devoid or psychotic appearance. 

“He had just stabbed a guy through the heart from behind who was about to cut my throat after we had robbed him. Blood sprayed over the two of us and we were more crimson than Red’s entire closet-space.” She chuckled at her own joke. “I can remember the blood slipping down his chin and dripping off a droplet at a time. Like slow raindrops clinging to the surface they collided with, desperately wanting to remain. And we just stood there, staring. It felt like forever. I had always admired him, he always protected me. He always cuddled me and even sang to me when I woke up from my nightmares, every single time without complaint. But when I saw him covered in the aftermath of his own work, a thing I thought there was no beauty greater than, there was just something irresistible about him. He had saved my life, and for the first time I was glad I was alive. I was glad someone cared about me. In my most vulnerable state, he didn’t take advantage me, he showed how much he cared. He pulled me in, by my hips, and we kissed. His taste, mixed with blood, fresh blood, it was intoxicating. Nothing had ever made me feel so alive and thankful, so I made it my purpose to support him and do whatever he said no matter what.” 

Viridian let out a beleaguered sigh, transitioning from her lovesick nostalgia and towards a more well-reasoned and self-aware countenance, face and smile falling as her eyes dropped to the abyss below the walkway’s railing she was leaning against. 

“But nothing else was ever filled with that much clarity. I don’t even really know if I’m Viridian Aurora, or if that’s just something I came up with to fill in the blanks. Or if…the blanks filled me in. What I do know, is that despite the fact my world is obscure, inconsistent and blurred around the borders, is that I value Silver above everything and everyone. But I don’t want this world to lose people like him. People like Yang, like Ruby, like Weiss and Blake who want to do good by people, who want to protect the innocent. I would never deprive the world of people like them and if my family chooses to fight for that goal, then so will I. These words, the ones I speak right now, I can’t tell if they’re my own. I can’t know if I’m just some puppet you’re bending to your designs or the whims of the voices in my head, but I chose to believe this is my choice. This is my life. It may be filled with pain and suffering, it may hurt and it may end without me doing any good or making up for the things I have done to people; things distorted by my brittle mind because if I really thought about them then I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, but this is still my life. It is my pain, nobody else’s. I value it because of that. For once, I’m going to decide what to do for myself.”

Viridian turned, steely-eyed and resolute; balling her fist over her chest and looking straight into Ozpin’s eyes. For once, a decision was being made by this girl not out of selfishness. Not one for herself, her own desires, or to relieve herself of her inner turmoil and torment: She was making a choice for the sake of others. 

“I’ll be your Guardian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thank you for reading as always. I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> First off, sorry for the hiatus. University is keeping me busy. I know I said this chapter would be the end of the current arc but I retroactively wrote this one in for the sake of Viridian's character arc and growth. 
> 
> So there's a bit to say. Ozpin obviously has a connection to the Maidens, giving them their powers, so he's able to use this connection to help them. Either by healing them or helping them better understand how to use their powers. There are many different facets to this ability, obviously it would be helpful when training Maidens that there is someone who can essentially accelerate their learning or all-together grasp of what they can do. Think of him as a Mage who buffs his team. Plus he's based off the Wizard of Oz, so knowledge goes hand in hand and this just emphasises it. 
> 
> Viridian is by no means sane, or well put together, or normal, or anything average in terms of mental well-being but she is more self-aware. Mental health is tied to environment a lot and the better the environment (happy family situation, for example) the better any potential recovery tends to be. Ozpin is just nudging her along, trying to get the most de-fanged and compassionate Viridian as possible so there is as little collateral damage as possible. She's been through a lot so don't expect some marvellous transition from psychopath to heroic altruist, her motivation is still primarily self-serving: She wants to protect what Silver values and we know he wants to help people and provide for his family. Fortunately enough for Ozpin, this works perfectly in his favour for recruiting Viridian to be the defacto "Guardian" of Vale.
> 
> The more keen-eyed of you may have noticed the parallels between another prospective "Guardian" Ozpin approached canonically. It's a good callback and I like the dramatic element of it, given what we know was hold in store for the last person to utter that line.
> 
> I've written most of the conclusion, so it won't be another 2 month hiatus, I promise. A week or two at most if I'm lazy, we'll be back with Yang and Co. soon~


	29. Send 'em Out...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stand off between Yang, Blake, Silver and Red with Lucian and the White Fang continues.

Red let out a shaky and exhausted breath, sucking in as much oxygen as her lungs and rib cage could manage without tearing her muscles or overexerting the capabilities of her skeletal structure at expanding beyond its usual limits. She loaded another magazine into both of her pistols and rounded the shipping container she had been using as improvised cover whilst fluidly snapping the revolvers up to eye-level to aim at the column of six White Fang soldiers whose own guns clicking more than indicated they were ready to resume their liberal exchange of ammunition; the previous rounds (pun well-intended) having ended whenever Red has found a new piece of cover to protect her from the one-sided battle that heavily favoured her adversary. 

The regular stimuli and experiences all occurred simultaneously for the red-headed assassin: Her mouth would dry with anticipation, ears standing erect despite the screams of the muscles wanting to twitch and fall down to bury themselves in her hair for a false sense of protection. The world would slow, yet she was as acutely aware of what was going on in even more frightening detail than the average person should ever be forced to observe. She could perceive and analyse every small spark and combustion of the firearms being pointed in her direction as if the world had slowed to a crawl. In reality, this was just her trained eye and perception. Perhaps it was in part due to her Faunus traits, but it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. It gave her time to take stock and consider the consequences of one against another. The bullets were travelling slow enough for her to make an educated guess as to their trajectories, the first three would miss her; however minutely, before the fourth would rip through her jugular. She lamented how little time this would leave her, maybe giving her enough time to pop off two slugs at best, if she was quick. A battle of attrition may have suited her survivability, but it certainly didn’t bode well for the larger picture. Red was aware of the fact these grunts were a diversionary tactic; sacrificial lambs with the sole purpose of buying Lucian time and wearing down her team. On one hand, she was disgusted by the ruthlessness of Lucian at eagerly sending his men to be killed by Red and her comrades, and yet on the other hand she had to respect the strategy from a tactician’s outlook. 

Tactician may have been too complimentary for Red’s battle habits, she was an assassin at best, and an unsympathetic cutthroat at worst. Really, she couldn’t claim the moral high ground with Lucian; they were cut from the same cloth regardless of the motivations for choosing their sides. The only real difference was Red didn’t call for racial supremacy. Such grandiose concepts were better left to philosophers and socio-political commentators who gave a damn about who was on top. Red certainly didn’t. Corruption begets corruption, even when someone claims to be fighting that very disease. At best they could be successful at kicking the issue down the road a ways, or altering how it takes place. All Red cared about making sure Linen was safe and secure. Maybe when all this was over, if the God she believed in truly existed and absolved her of her numerous sins, the two of them could open up a small shop and live out their days in peace and quiet. Something like a bakery would be pleasant, confectionary had always been a hobby Red wanted to invest more time in. It was a nice dream, if unrealistic. A nice dream, one that had encircled her slumbering mind many times before when the few moments of respite in her relatively short life (although the wars and fighting and pain had made it feel like it was far longer than 19 years) had been kind enough to grant her a reprieve from the dismal world around her. 

Right now, she didn’t have the luxury to reminisce or dream of a better life, the bullet ripping through her right sleeve and grazing across the surface of her skin was a painful reminder of that. 

“Fuck! Miscalculated…” She groaned. There was always the distinct possibility with the world slowed down under her battle-instincts that she could get lost in her own train of thought, fortunately it hadn’t proved fatal. Blood bubbled and flowed down the graze, but by no means was it gushing or going to prove a problem. She holstered her left-hand revolver and reached over to rip and tear off the tattered sleeve of her right-arm and tossed it to the floor below, leaving her with an asymmetrical sleeved shirt below the bicep. 

“Got you, traitor!” Red’s eyes widened, startled, at the sound of the voice so close she could feel its breath wash across her cheek. The air ripped in twain, screaming, as the crimson machete of a White-Fang grunt sliced through it- level with the Fox-Faunus’ head- directed from the flank Red had not been taking gunfire from. She castigated herself for not keeping a proper eye on the obvious flanking route. Instinct proved to be her saving grace, performing a Matrix-escape with her mouth-watering level of flexibility to dodge the razor-sharp edge from decapitating her; the tip of the blade sailing over her nose by a hair’s width before it embedded in the container behind her. Red immediately pushed off the shipping container with her foot, sliding ungracefully and rolling without any semblance of control onto her back just to create a modicum of distance between herself and her assailant. Her chest palpitated violently with a mix of horror and relief at just how close she had come to dying. Red gulped back her fear, metamorphizing it into fury directed solely at her closest opposition for daring to try and slay her. He was busy wrenching at the trapped weapon, swallowed by the metal body of the container he had unintentionally swung into. No attention was being paid to his target, and that gave Red the perfect opportunity to exact some cathartic vengeance. 

Red flicked out her revolver from her uninjured arm and advanced towards him, closing the already minute distance. He turned, noticing the bright, blaring fury and rage emanating from the girl’s eyes and began pulling harder and more franticly to retrieve his weapon as anxiety overtook him. Red span on the spot during her final step, bringing her arm up level with her own shoulder, but refrained from taking aim at the grunt, instead aiming away from him, and pulled the trigger of Deception. The recoil proved to increase the revolution of her bodily movement, and consequently amplified the force of the pistol-aided backhand to the grunt’s face, striking him with such might that his own face became as embedded in the container as his own machete was; his body going completely limp as blood slowly began trickling down the cobalt shipping container.

Red puffed out an exhausted breath, dropping down to a knee as she tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear. “Call me a traitor? You’re the one’s making our species out to be senseless killers.”

Suddenly from across the shipping container Red was using for cover, where she had assumed the White Fang soldiers were opportunistically waiting to ambush her or were in the process of staging an assault given the fact she was cornered between a line of the containers to her back, followed by the cracks of air indicating swift and decisive movements, and finally: rapid and instantaneous gunshots with barely a pause in between them. 

The signs of battles were acutely obvious to someone as battle-hardened as Red, even if her role was of a distanced one where injury was relegated somewhat, and her instincts once more kicked into overdrive. She slammed herself back-first into cover and held Deception up towards the ceiling of the hideout, keeping it close to her chest as she slowed her breathing down. She couldn’t tell who this new belligerent was; it could have been Yang or Blake, since they had their own firearms; although it equally could have been Silver dodging gunfire himself. In the latter case, that only stacked the odds against her because of the increased numbers of enemies in her general vicinity. However, what was also concurrently true was that Silver’s appearance could distract the soldiers pinning her down, and she could take advantage of that to thin them out whilst their backs were turned. In any case, she had to learn whose sudden appearance was causing the most recent ruckus and commotion.

Blake stood in the midst of an unconscious collection of bodies, huffing hard from her apparent expulsion of energy having taken them all down non-lethally. Red’s eyes widened significantly, not out of shock but more so out because she was impressed by Blake’s swift dispatching of at least a dozen soldiers with the only noticeable effects being to her rate of inhalation and exhalation. 

“Nice work.” Red praised. 

“Thanks.” Blake smirked back, reloading Gambol Shroud with a new magazine. “You okay?” Blake asked, pointing to Red’s wound.

Red sighed, wiping away at the renewed leaking of blood from the cut, smearing it on the back of her hand. “I’m fine. Least of my worries right now.” Red looked up, and off to the side, quirking an eyebrow “Where’s Silver and Yang?”

“I don’t-” 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!” Yang’s voice pierced through the air above all other oscillations of sound, followed by the clicking and whistling of buckshots in conjunction with her war cry. 

“…Over there.” Blake answered, a sheepish grin settling.

“How perceptive.” Red rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been told that, once or twice.” Blake shrugged, taking Red’s sarcasm in good faith. “Come on, they could use the back up.”

 

Red and Blake summarily sprinted through the smouldering black craters, litany of bullet-holes, dents to metalwork and shattered concrete that become more and more frequent the closer to the sounds of combat they approach. They found Silver, collapsed onto his behind with one knee bent, resting his arm on it, and Yang stood with both of her arms dangling from exhaustion, heavy and laboured breaths escaping their parted lips.

“Boss!” Red shouted, holstering both of her guns and sliding to a crouch by his side “How are you holding up?”

“I…” Silver sighed, “Could ask you the same thing.” He gulped back a deep breath, like a man would for water had he been deprived of it after spending days without any in a desert. “I don’t remember the White Fang being so tough. What happened to the good old days when they went down like a sack of potatoes and were as flimsy as paper? O’ memories…” 

“You’re too brash, that’s why. You need to be more careful.” Red reprimanded, having been so exhausted from her fighting that her own brazen and irritable demeanour had subsided somewhat from earlier, now being replaced by concern for her leader.  
Silver raised a cursory eyebrow in Red’s direction, pointing to her bloody arm “You really want to talk to me about being careful?”

Red flinched, having forgotten about her untreated wound and apprehensively covered the gash with her over hand, her eyes drifting away from her leader to the ground below “I couldn’t help it, I was pinned down.” She said before huffing in annoyance “Doesn’t make my point any less valid.”

Silver groaned, rolling his eyes and tearing off a few inches of fabric from his vest, before tying it around Red’s cut to stem the flow of blood, causing his younger sibling to slightly flush at being treated so tenderly and with such concern emanating from Silver’s face. It was easy to forget just how protective of her Silver was, hidden behind his sarcastic and cynical exterior. “Makeshift, but it should do. Makes you and Blake look like you’re making some kind of trendy fashion statement too.”

The Fox-Faunus chuckled, glancing over to Blake with her own makeshift bandaging tied around her forehead from her own laceration at the hands of the White Fang from only hours earlier. “Thanks, although I don’t think I’ll be taking your advice on what constitutes a fashion statement, my dear Silver.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Giving the siblings their own privacy to discuss their light-hearted conversation, Blake crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned down towards Yang, who was struggling to stay upright; having to plant both hands on her knees to steady herself.

“What about you? Doing okay?” Blakes asked, concerned for her partner.

Yang, even when panting could still succeed in grinning in such a way that expressed a carefree grace and calm that was practically inspiring. “Yeah, no biggie. I’ve been looking for a good workout.” Yang breathlessly chuckled. 

Blake pursed her lip, fingertips pressing deeper into her arms in apprehension at just how tired Yang looked. There was no indication her aura was depleted or even nearing a low threshold, but from her heaving and flushed skin surrounding her face, it was clear Yang had been pushed to her physical limits in other ways. 

Yang half-turned, catching the look in Blake’s eyes; instantly smirking to herself and shooting her a thumbs-up with far more vigour than Blake was expecting.

“I didn’t get hit once, gotta follow Weiss’ orders after all. God, I’m pretty whipped, huh?” Yang laughed, pushing up from the ground to take a stand beside Blake. “Dodging takes a lot out of you, though.”

“You get used to it.” Blake managed to smile, finally, her shoulders sagging as the tension finally seeped out of her at seeing Yang get back up. She had a natural inclination to worry about Yang because they were partners after all, but it had long been more than that to Blake. They were practically sisters, always having each-other’s backs at every instance of danger. She couldn’t help but worry, but at the same time this was Yang she was talking about. By this point there was no comparison to Yang on Team RWBY, she was easily the best fighter. Not the prettiest in style or execution, not the safest, not the quickest and not the most versatile; just simply the best. If you wanted a fight won, you’d turn to Yang. Concern and worry were quickly becoming inconsequential the more experienced Yang became. Still, Blake would probably always fret over the blonde brawler just a little bit. It was simply in her nature to overanalyse and observe any and all details in the characters of the people around her. It was both a fortunate and unfortunate side-effect of being so passive during Adam’s descent. She wouldn’t let that happen again, nor would she ignore a potential problem just because it didn’t seem significant at the time. 

“You’re lucky, you’ve got a semblance that takes a blow and projects you to a safe distance, that’s like, the most broken thing ever.” Yang retorted, clearly not as broken up about Blake’s semblance as she was attempting to be.

“I can still get hit, you realize? At least you can get hit without only suffering negative repercussions.”

“…Wanna swap semblances for a day?” Blake laughed at Yang’s joke, snickering candidly to herself.

“I think I’ll give it a pass for now, thanks. I like my soul in my body.” Blake responded, nudging Yang with her shoulder. 

“Spoil sport.” 

Suddenly, the sound of slow, rhythmic clapping upended the conversations between the two pairs of partners and echoed across the entire room, bouncing from wall to wall in a solitaire display of mockery.

Yang’s gauntlets quickly sprung to life, and she spun around to lean against Blake’s back, literally guarding it for her, as the Cat-Faunus did the same; flicking Gambol Shroud into its bladed variant and holding it across her chest defensively. Red and Silver ran over on either side of them, the Fox-Faunus having her hands primed on her revolvers: ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice, whilst Silver simply balled his fists. They collectively looked about for the source of the noise, prepared to begin their battle anew after their brief respite, but couldn’t locate it swiftly due to the distorted nature of the sound thanks to its constant reverberating. 

“Isn’t this an honour! The White Fang are being paid a visit by the Prodigal son and what is practically our own royalty!” The four Hunters’ heads all snapped upwards, towards a solid concrete balcony around twenty feet off the ground. Blake was the first to notice, scowling as she saw the figure of the White Fang’s newest leader leant against the metal railing with both hands, smiling down both condescendingly and callously at the group: Lucian, who was gesturing between Silver and Blake respectively. 

Her blood boiled at the sight of him, images of Ruby’s ruined shoulder and pained gasps filling her ears with a rush of the white noise of hatred. It was an entirely different reaction to the one she’d expect to feel at the sight of Adam; but then again there was a very good reason for that. Adam was Blake’s own personal obstacle; a representation of everything she was afraid of becoming as well as a symbol of danger to everything she loved. He was a personal phantom of her past, but Lucian was a present manifestation of something else. He was a violent ideologue born of Adam that had hurt…well, she wasn’t much sure of what she considered Ruby, but she knew that kiss meant something more than teammates and friends. And for hurting her, Blake was going to make him pay and bring him to justice, one way or another. 

“And in the form of Blake Belladonna no less!” he said beneath a snicker and devious smile, barely hiding his contempt for the girl, although its extent hardly finished with her. “To what do I owe the outstanding pleasure of the four of you? Not satisfied with losing a hand or having some human wench crippled in your place? I’ve heard of guilt making misguided altruists do stupid things, but this really is astonishing to say the least.”

“You know damn well why we’re here: you condescending narcissist! Give me back the man I love or else!” Red sneered, bearing her fangs as she lurched forwards, only Silver’s nearest arm preventing the riled-up Fox-Faunus from pointlessly bursting forward in some vain attempt to intimidate the White-Fang’s leader, only resulting in his condescending glare and arrogant smile as if Red were some insignificant ant beneath him both literally and figuratively. 

“Or else what?” He breathed contemptuously of her “What will the Princess of Prostitution do to me? Relieve me in a seedy motel room?”

“I’ll rip your fucking head off!” Red retorted, Silver now fully pinning her to his own body, arms wrapped around her shoulders to hold her in place as she thrashed about like a fish desperately fighting for its life as it is reeled in.

“Red! Calm down for the love of Dust, you’re not helping!” Silver chided, scowling back at the girl he was trying to restrain.

“He took Linen from me, and I didn’t do anything! He needs to die, and it needs to be slow!” Red seethed, words coming out in near silent breaths that tickled the Wolf’s human set of ears as her voice fell to a more intimate volume, becoming far more dogmatic and intimidating, sending a bolt of static up Silver’s spine in minor concern for his own safety. Red could be abjectly terrifying when her switched was flipped, which thanks to personal experience was one of the reasons he was trying to get her under some form of discipline.

“I get that, I really do, but we’re outnumbered and exhausted. Let’s gather ourselves and draw the dialogue out until we can think up a plan.” Silver steeled himself, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he smothered the fear Red had quickly built up inside him with her vicious and spiteful tone. 

Red wrestled control away from Silver, pushing him off before retreating a few paces, ire-filled-irises focused solely on Lucian, casting an amused gaze down at them. “I’ll play along, but I’m the one killing him. You understand?”

“You may want to get in line…” Silver said, vision bouncing between herself, Yang and Blake; all of whom had very justifiable reasons to want a crack at Lucian. Silver turned around, mediating his own hatred and aggression for the betterment of him and his friends’ chances at not dying in a narrow span of time. “Where’s Linen?” Silver called up to Lucian, hands balling into fists with the soft vibration coming off from his gloves to indicate the build-up of processed Dust energising his appendages for an offensive strike. 

“Straight to the point, huh? No time for lil’ old Lucian these days? Or are you just scared of losing another…wait…” Lucian leaned over the railing, his Faunus eyesight should have been more than enough to discern any detail of the troupe below him, and yet his disbelief was so that a closer inspection was needed to confirm his suspicions. “What the hell? I crushed your hand! Last time I checked, Wolves don’t malt or regrew limbs!” Lucian shouted, some raw and unprepared and unrefined emotion finally escaping his usually carefully crafted and prepared routine of speech.

Silver snickered, flexing his still newly rejuvenate fingers as if showing off Lucian’s failures; practically throwing them in his face from how he grimaced in anger. “Oh? This hand of mine? You’d be amazed at what my Viridian can do when she sets herself a goal.” 

“That pet human of yours…” Lucian snarled, dipping his head and recomposing himself after he let out a sigh mixed with frustration and disappointment. 

Silver scowled upon hearing the derogative name and manner in which Lucian addressed his lover, but chose once again to smother his smouldering rage. Rushing in like Red wanted wasn’t going to do him any good. After all, when he was practically one-hundred percent he had been thoroughly thrashed by Lucian without breaking a sweat. This time if they did come to blows, he would have to be far more calculating and careful in his approach, he didn’t have a Demigod lover to save and repair him if he failed. 

“No matter,” Lucian began, smiling authoritatively back down at the foursome of Huntsman and Huntresses. “An extra hand doesn’t really change anything. Especially coming here without that human trash you’ve got leashed to your hip. You’ve willingly walked to your own execution and placed the noose around your necks. Thanks for your help.”

“God! This guy is insufferable! It’s all monologuing all the time! Even Weiss doesn’t talk our ears off this much!” Yang chimed in with a roll of her eyes, her down to earth and unsophisticated form of articulation threw Lucian off his balance, sending one of his eyebrows rocketing upwards in plain surprise as his lips curved into a fine line. 

“He is pretty wordy, isn’t he?” Silver jested back, Yang mirroring his smile, before the two of them refocused on the Bear-Faunus with a look of grim-determination. “So how about we shut him up for good?”

Lucian threw up his hands in mock surrender and concern at the combined aggression in stances below him. “Now hold on, why get started early? Why, I think I hear the main event coming…” Lucian’s self-important and haughty smile grew in size, spreading from ear to ear as it became even more sinister and ominous than ever before. Silver briefly halted, hands tightening until his bones and ligaments strained from the stress. 

Silver listened, his Faunus sense of hearing allowing him to hear the ever-growing louder sound of the clack of heels, rhythmically bouncing off the floor from ahead of where Lucian stood, his confidence and self-assurance becoming eerily solidified the closer it came to them. Something else also became clear too, another sound; although this one was more alien than the sound of heels was after growing up around Red, though it wasn’t mysterious by any stretch of the imagination. It sounded rambling, like metal being shook and bouncing off itself; a malleable substance. Chains, Silver deduced. It could have only been chains.

But what was chained that was being brought to them? A terrifying new strain or form of Grimm? Whatever it was, Lucian was banking on it or the approaching set of footsteps to be some ace in the hole, or game changer, or something that would further tilt the odds in his favour. 

Within only a few seconds, Silver’s eyes finally set upon the source of the clacking from behind Lucian, an ashen haired woman with a jaw-dropping hour-glass physique that was so enticing and scantily clad in a red dress with a gold parallel trim that it left very little to the imagination and yet still dared the observer to continue undressing her with their eyes. Silver knew who this woman was, he had foiled her plans every step of the way in the past and had been privileged enough that he had never had the misfortune of running into her or her deceptively lethal self.

Until now. 

She was Cinder Fall, and from the smile that ran through and over her pursed lips, she seemed very delighted to finally meet eye to eye with the man who had deliberately unfurled her carefully executed usurpation of Beacon’s Relic. No doubt she had been waiting for this opportunity with unbridled fanaticism. Carefully outlining every punishment and aggravated torment she would subject him to for interfering with her plans, if his information on her tendencies was anything to go by. Silver could feel the tension in his fingertips overwhelm their sturdiness, muscles and bone quaking. He knew this woman was to be feared, even with all his resolve and intestinal fortitude he couldn’t help but feel like a helpless child under the intense pressure and aura she gave off, like some pre-adolescent being found with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar and was about to be reprimanded for it. He knew this feeling well. Uncomfortably well. It was like the air was violently pulled out of your lungs, and then forced back in, without any way to exhale and stop its continued expanse unless this unperceivable force allowed you to. Every fibre and muscle felt as if they were being tugged and tweaked about, sending waves of static up and down your body in overwhelming volleys of distressing sensation. It was utterly crushing and overwhelming, like a hundred-kilogram weight had suddenly- without warning- had been attached to you; sucking the life and strength to stand, yanking you to the floor below on your hands and knees like it bade for subjugation and suppression of everyone around it. 

It was the exact same feeling of being around Viridian when she activated her Maiden’s powers, the same suffocating and demanding aura so strong it could tear down buildings just from its impressive weight.

Lucian’s trump card proved an impressive one: The Fall Maiden.

Alongside her were her ever-present lackey’s: Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black, the illusionist and the Assassin prodigy. Whilst in comparison to the stature of a Maiden they may have stacked up only as paltry, by regular Huntsmen standards they were an incredibly dangerous and foreboding pair. It certainly meant, at the least, running into a White Fang base was about as suicidal as Silver had initially anticipated. But there was little choice to begin with, and no way of backing out. 

“Long time no see, Blondie.” Mercury regarded Yang, arms crossed with a carefree and blithe countenance. Yang growled at the sight of him, arms propping themselves up with fists balled, close to her chest for the most efficient stance at switching between defence and offence. “I think you owe me a rematch for the Vytal Tournament.”

“Bring it.” Yang responded simply, eyes flickering intermittently between crimson and Lavender. “I’ll pummel you time and again if I have to.”

Mercury scoffed, amused by her bravado, until he was silenced by the raised hand and flare of fire that ignited above Cinder’s palm; along with her one visible eye that wasn’t hidden by her ashen hair. 

“Enough.” She proclaimed, commandingly, turning to Lucian with a smirk full of pride and satisfaction, to which he bowed respectfully, folding one arm across his body. 

“Kiss-ass…” Silver muttered under his breath.

“Lucian,” Cinder’s velvet and venom-laced voice called his name. “You truly are a man of your word and convictions. So much superior to your predecessor in accomplishing your objectives and my wishes.” Her eyes slid over to look at the four Hunters below her, fire still crackling in her palm until she balled it into a fist: killing it instantly. “First you bring me the hacker, and now you bring me the source of my consternation and failings. You truly are a marvel.”

Lucian chuckled, like he had some sense of humility about him. “Please, Madam Cinder, I was only too pleased to repay your faith and patience in me with added interest.” He stood to his full height, glancing at them with disdain that quickly melded back into amusement. “Although truth be told, this was more a result of fortune than my own work.”

“Fortune has nothing to do with destiny, my dear Lucian. This was meant to be.” Cinder’s teeth drew across her lips in a predatory manner. It was then, with a gesture of her hand, the sounds of chains rattling against one another began anew. Silver hadn’t exactly noticed that they had stopped, but now they were the preeminent and singular sound echoing through the entire complex. Lucian took it upon himself to lean back, and with a vicious swipe of his hand he grabbed hold of something just out of the students’ view, before hurling into the metal railing of the balcony, ripping a side-arm from its holster and placed it aggressively to what was now obviously a person’s head, threateningly, his smile cracking into a monstrous and sadistic snarl. 

Red’s eyes widened, gone was her daring and bluster to cleave her way through wave after wave of enemy soldiers even at her own expense, face drooping in concern and shock. Lips parting all the same as one long breath exited her lungs that she hadn’t realized she had been holding in all this time. Her eyes stung with tears, moisture slowly rolling over her eyelids and down her face. She took a tentative step forwards, arms outstretched pleadingly; disbelief emanating from every pour of her body as her fingertips trembled. 

It was Linen, held precariously against the edge of both the railing and his own life. At least she thought it was Linen. The bright blonde hair was a giveaway, as was his sport’s brand hoodie, but there was so much damage adorning him and so little life in his dim and vacant eyes she could hardly recognise the man she had fallen in love with.

Linen’s face was beaten and bloody, carved open wantonly across his cheeks and brow, red ichor dripping down one eye so much he was forced to keep it closed, although from the level of bruising along with the swelling around it he probably was incapable of opening it altogether. His breathing was ragged and shallow, small puffs of resolute but weak exhalations was the only signs he had any fight left in him, though his near-lifeless eyes begged to differ with that conclusion. 

It tore Red up inside, seeing the boy who never gave up no matter what problem came his way reduced to such a state. He always thought up an escape, a contingency, a fool proof idea to save the day and have team SLVR ride off into the sunset triumphantly. He knew every answer to every question. Any worry she had ever had was assuaged by his faultless logic and limitless knowledge of anything and everything. His strength was internal and burnt with a passion and edge that never dulled unlike any Huntsman’s blade. And yet he could barely stand, arms chained behind his back and chained to the shackles connecting his feet. It was excruciating, she felt more torn up than her lover’s face. As if someone had taken a knife and gutted her right then and there. Her heart dropped, like a cascading building. Her stomach flared in sympathy pains. She felt her brow twitch and her lips quiver. 

Blind rage was the natural conclusion, once her shock dissipated.

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL TEAR YOU TO PIECES AND FEED THEM TO STRAY DOGS!” Red screamed, filled with grief and pain, her words and temperament failing as she sobbed and collapsed to her knees, unable to tear her vision away from Linen’s, she began begging for his life and cursing Lucian’s name in poorly constructed insults and threats. Nothing landed a blow, Lucian toyed with his firearm against Linen’s head and smiled down at Red with disdain and delight as always, revelling in reducing Red to such a broken mess.

“You bastard…” Silver bit back, hands quaking in silent rage. 

“You should be proud. Nearly three whole hours of constant torture. I tell you, for such a gaunt little thing he’s got some mighty impressive resilience. And a pair of lungs! You should have heard him wail! Never asked for mercy, not once. It didn’t last long though. They never do.” Lucian said with a cruel matter-of-fact air to him, smirking down to them. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Linen? Still with us?” Linen groaned weakly, turning his head languidly to spit at Lucian, his saliva mixed with blood, the moisture landing on Lucian’s cheek.

“Fuck you…” Linen said, defiant. 

“There he is! Thought you’d gone and died on us, champ.” Lucian mocked, wiping away the bloody saliva from his cheek like it was a trivial concern, mocking Linen’s defiance. “As I was saying, the itinerary for our wonderful day together is as follows: I’m going to have each of you killed off, one by one, until Linen hear coughs up how to undo his troublesome rewrite of Vale’s defence system. If he breaks before you all die, you win! And you can all die together. Isn’t that fun?” Lucian stressed the final word of his sentence, drawing the ire of the four Hunters below him. “Oh and, no need to worry about Linen here. He’s dead anyway, it just depends on how much he wants to suffer before I show him a sliver of mercy, not like humans deserve it, but hey: I’m just that fine of a gentleman, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“There’s no way we’re letting you get away with this!” Blake proclaimed, grinding her teeth back and forth in absolute contempt for the White Fang’s newest dictator, fingers gripping around Gambol Shroud so tightly the blade shook. This man represented everything conflicting with her own world view, the corruption and discrimination born of hatred. He was malicious and spiteful; a true monster to behold if there ever was one. 

As they bantered back and forth, trading insults and jabs, all the while Lucian mocked them as he toyed with Linen’s weakened and frayed body, an idea came to Silver’s mind. It was an all or nothing hail Mary if there ever was one, but at this point he wasn’t too bothered about possibility or chance of success: anything would do. He began discretely signalling with his palm and fingers, bending and flexing individual fingers one at a time, directing and positioning them so Linen could see exactly what he was doing. It all hinged on whether Linen had the wherewithal to notice what Silver was doing, and if he had the strength to go along with it, but Silver had faith. It was about all he had at this point. Blind faith in his best friend. He noticed Linen’s head dip and then immediately raise itself up, eyes focused on Silver as much as they reasonably could be, and the Wolf took it as a sign that Linen at least understood the vague gestures and meaning behind them that Silver had been attempting to convey to the boy-genius. He nodded back to Linen, giving him a smile and a wink, before stepping forward and crouching down to Red’s level, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Get up. Things are about to get crazy.” Silver whispered in her ear, catching Red’s attention as her tear-stained face turned to his, creasing in confusion.

“What?” She asked.

“Do as I say. I’ve got a plan.” Silver smirked.

“Oh joy…” Red sniffled, wiping her tears away with her still-sleeved arm. “What is it this time, b-boss?” 

“I’m thinking…White-Wolf-Syndrome.” His smile broke out wide, a toothy and fang-filled smile stretching from ear to ear. 

“Wow…been a while since we tried that. Does he…do you have the strength to pull it off?”

Silver shrugged “Only one way to find out.” Silver stood, turning to the black and yellow pair of their quartet “Blake, Yang; think you can lay down some supressing fire for me?”

The duo looked to each-other, quizzical at what Silver was planning, but nodded in conjunction as they came to the same conclusion that it was worth a try. 

“Sure.” Yang said confidently. 

“Linen could get caught in the crossfire. Aren’t you worried?” Blake inquired. 

“Don’t worry about him, I’ll take care of that. Just fire on my go. Ready?” The two of them nodded, Blake flicking Gambol Shroud down into its pistol form and readied her aim, Yang doing the same in drawing her arms back to prepare for the motion of firing Ember Celica. 

Silver took a deep breath, closed his eyes and simulated every movement he would have to make to pull this off. There was no middle ground. It either worked, or he and Linen could end up dead. He opened his gun-metal eyes, focusing solely on the railing Linen was bent over and stared with intensity. 

“Go!” Silver screamed, and Blake’s hail of gunfire coincided perfectly with the snap and cry of Yang’s fiery buckshots blasting from her forearms; spiralling through the air towards their targets. 

“Is that all?” Lucian responded derisively, the Fall Maiden to his side preparing her own scorching projectile to intercept Yang and Blake’s, when suddenly, white-tinged static zipped and jumped around the entire balcony: Cinder’s fireball sizzled into the aether much to her own confusion and chagrin. 

“What?!” She exclaimed as the static and bolts of electricity expanded into a domed force-field, linking and hopping from person to person whilst racing and running across the radius of the newly summoned field, robbing every one of their semblances, however exposing them to no sensations of pain despite the presence of electrical current zapping from person to person.

Distracted by these unforeseen turn of events, Lucian barely had time to dodge the pepper of bullets and explosive buckshots that zoomed past him by the thinnest of margins, his release of his grip on Linen coming in concurrence with this unexpectedly effective attack. His eyes widened as a plume of smoke burst in front of him: quickly fading and wafting away as the smiling vestige, shrouded in the smokescreen, of Silver stared him right in the eyes, hands dug deep into Linen’s shoulders, tugging the boy into his arms and encapsulating him. 

“Nullification. Ain’t it a bitch?” Silver scorned Lucian, the White Fang leader looked absolutely befuddled with his wide eyes and hanging jawline until understanding flashed across his face, morphing from confusion to rage. He tried to grab Silver, but the Faunus pressed off with the soles of his feet, jumping backwards and out of Lucian’s reach, who simply snarled his disdain for the former mercenary like the wild animal he was. 

“ALOI!” Lucian screamed wildly after the Wolf-Faunus, who was plummeting down twenty feet to the level below where his friends and allies were, bracing Linen against himself to protect his closest friend from the fall, taking the brunt of the impact along his back and ribs with a sickening thud, before rattling against it and finally coming to a complete stop. 

Static continued to zip and course atop his body, sparking and arcing in places as it slowly subsided into nothingness. It was the residue of Linen’s semblance, preventing the Wolf-Faunus from making their landing softer and less dangerous at the expense of the pain emanating from his spine and ribs, as well as the dull ache in the back of his head from what was the beginnings of a concussion, but it was hardly the worst pain he had felt that day, comparably the pain was like a light massage; so, he couldn’t really complain. The oncoming concussion helped too, dulling some of the pain. 

“Linen!” Red scampered over, ripping her lover away from Silver’s protective arms; cradling him protectively in her arms as she knelt down beneath him and broke off his restraints with a swift combination of blows from Deception to the chained metal. She then began peppering his wounded face with soft kisses, much to the displeasure of the blonde-haired boy as he audibly voiced his pain at his sensitive face being touched so consistently with a series of “Ouches” and “Ows” every time she did it. “Oh my god, thank God, you’re okay; you’re really okay, right?!” Red asked, concernedly for her lover, framing his face by the cheeks with her hands and tilting him to look at her.

“I’d be lying if I said I’ve been worse…” Linen laughed breathlessly, groaning in pain, causing the Faunus embracing him to falter and bite her lip in worry, only for Linen to reach up and stroke her face with an unsteady collection of fingertips. “I’m alive, Red.” He replied, earnestly, with a smile.

“Oh, thank god…” she wept, pressing their foreheads together “Thank you…thank you so much…I don’t know…Linen, I…” Red began, at a loss for words. She wasn’t one for overly expressive series of emotional displays, but she truly was overcome with relief and happiness that Linen, while injured, was safe and sound in her arms. She convinced herself with her religious leanings to be an act of God, a miracle unrepeatable for any other persons. “Without you, my life wouldn’t have any light. I’ve gone back and forth, not knowing if I’d ever see you again. Thinking you were dead and gone. I’m just…so grateful you’re alive. Never leave me again.”

“Red, I’m never leaving you. I made you a promise when we first met that I’d never abandon you. Not like your parents. Got that? Because if you don’t…”

Bloody and swollen lips pressed against her own, invitingly, taking her by surprise but the Fox-Faunus reciprocated in kind. Slowly, they broke apart at Linen’s behest, strained and frantic breaths wafting over each-other as golden orbs reflected into emerald ones, the shared twinkling in both sets suggested unshed tears lied in both. 

“Hopefully that gets it through your thick skull.” Linen smirked wickedly. “Thanks for coming to rescue me, by the way.”

Red sniffled, offering a weak but honest chuckle afterwards. “I’d never leave you behind. Never. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Red.” 

“Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnngggg….!” Breaking the tender silent backdrop to the two lovers was the still prone Silver, limbs sprawled out next to him. Yang jogged over, taking a knee besides Silver to inspect him.

“Silver? What’s wrong? Can’t move?” Yang said, concern filtering into her voice. Silver brought a hand up to her face, waving it in the air dismissing her concern with a surprising amount of casualty, though it was quite characteristic of him to switch from serious to jovial at the drop of a hat. Yang found it endearing, if a little grating. She wondered if others found her that.

“No, I’m fine but…can you take over for me? I need a break from this hero shit. It’s tiring.” Silver groaned, finally pulling himself up into a sitting position, cracking his neck from side to side and rubbing the sore spots. 

Yang laughed, shaking her head and patting the Wolf-Faunus’ shoulder patronisingly “Sorry bud, no days off.”

“At least tell me we get paid by the hour?” Silver jested, before taking the hand Yang extended down towards him to pull him up, raising him to his full height. “Come to think of it, I haven’t been paid once since going honest. Man, I deserve some compensation.”

“Take it up with HR or something.” Yang bantered back. 

“Hey, Silver…” the aforementioned member of their group turned to see Linen, still cradled in Red’s loving and protective embrace looking to him, and impish smile resting atop his lips. “Tell me the truth, since Red’s biased, how do I look? Am I going to be my devilishly handsome self?” 

Silver paused, carefully debating what to say, crossing his arms over his chest. “Chicks dig scars?” he shrugged his shoulders. 

“He’s right, you know? Spank me, you sexy battle-hardened man…” Red whispered sultrily into Linen’s ears, causing her partner to blush profusely, Silver also turning away so he didn’t even have to address the situation.

“Dust, this is my family…” Silver resignedly whispered. 

“Guys! Focus!” Blake spoke up, seizing the room’s attention as both Mercury and Emerald descended from the perched position of the balcony, softening their landing considerably with perfect manipulation of their aura- something that exposed the substantial advantage in their favour, thanks to the depleted levels of aura the Hunters currently had making such a manoeuvre impossible.

Cinder crossed her arms, furrowing her brow, and turned to Lucian. “Fix this.” She commanded, impatience and venom lining her words as she practically had to spit them out from how tightly set her jawline was, and Lucian gave her a curt bow.

“At once.” He hurdled the railing, and performed a symmetrical fall to his allies; using his defensive aura manipulation to cushion his own decline and impact with the ground. “I’ll admit that display of yours was impressive; but no matter how much of a fight you put up there’s no escape. For any of you.” 

“Uh, Silver? Got a plan?” Linen asked as Red slung his arm over her shoulders and helped the wounded man to his feet, his one free arm clasping his broken ribs (stemming from the torture, not the fall, although it didn’t help any).

“Well, if I was being honest, plan A was kinda fight our way out…but the odds aren’t really in our favour.” Silver replied, nervously.

“Please tell me plan B is a better option? Wait, there is a plan B, right?” Linen asked, eyebrows lifting off as he concerned himself with the thought of Silver running in haphazardly without forethought. Of Red and Viridian, he expected that, but not Silver. Hopefully not, anyway.

“Plan B was to kill you so they didn’t get anything out of that noggin of yours.” Silver admitted, a bit too freely for Linen’s comfort.

“…Well, plan A it is then.” Linen said, clearing his throat in his attempts to not sound terrified as he was at the prospect of being killed by either Lucian or his best friend. 

“So, who takes who?” Silver asked, drawing his open palms upwards in preparation for the ensuing fight. 

“I’ll take Mercury. I’ve fought him before, I know his tricks.” Yang said, walking in line with the silver-haired assassin, balling her fists and raising them combatively.

“If that’s the case, the girl’s mine. Her powers don’t work so well if you’re aware of them, I did kinda outplay her back at the Vytal Tournament by using Linen’s semblance to stop her own.” Silver explained, focusing his intense gaze on Emerald. “Besides, nobody wear’s green like Viridian. Gotta teach her a little lesson in respect.”

“Lucian’s mine.” Red growled, pulling Wile and Deception from their holsters, flicking the hexagonal revolvers by their handles, folding them vertically in line with the barrel; shark-teeth-serrated-blades sliding out from the under barrel. 

“Mind if I tag along?” Blake strode up to her Faunus counterpart, amber eyes drilling holes into Lucian. “I need to pay him back for the nightclub and what he did to Ruby.”

Red snickered, position one revolver-knife horizontally across her chest and the ever pointing behind her, down at her hip. “Fine by me, just don’t expect me to let you kill him. I called dibs.” 

Linen hobbled over to Silver, standing beside his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady himself. “Let me help, I can’t stop her from projecting her semblance; That last blast took a lot out of me. But I have enough left to stop it from working on me. Direct your movement, you know?”

“I wouldn’t have anyone else be my eyes and ears, Linen. Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always, I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> I know I said this would be the current arc's finale, but I divided it into two chapters since it ran over 16,000 words long, it just so happened to divide perfectly. Don't worry, I'll have the second part out within 24 hours since it's practically done itself, just needs tweaking and the like.
> 
> I also wanted to thank everyone who has read, left Kudos and commented on the story. A few days ago marked the year anniversary of writing this story and its been super fun every step of the way. So thank you for helping motivate me to keep writing and there is much more to come. Hopefully it will be finished before the two year anniversary, haha.
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter. Lucian finally showed up, back to taunt and mock out heroes and heroines. Grrr, evil man is evil. 
> 
> Poor Linen, I can only imagine how horrifically he was treated, but his resolution and determination kept him alive and stopped the villains from drawing any information from him. And we finally got to see his semblance: A nullification field that disables all nearby semblances. Seemed fitting the one character who can't fight has a semblance that robs everyone else of their auras and personal abilities, bringing them down to the same sense of uselessness he feels when his friends fight. 
> 
> Red got angry. Don't touch her beloved Linen, she's a fiery woman. Although they did get a nice touching reunion, which is nice to read amidst all the posturing and death-threats. 
> 
> Poor Silver, White-Wolf Syndrome seemed like a cool name for a team-combination move but it resulted in his ribs taking another whack. Forget about losing his hand, some doctor really should check him for internal bleeding. 
> 
> So what happens next time? Everybody's ready to square off, but do our heroes have what it takes to stand on even ground given how much they've been put through? Lucian himself got pretty banged up, but he still has Emerald and Mercury to back him up. Plus there's Cinder waiting in the wings. The odds are definitely not in their favour.


	30. ...With a Yang.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heroes face off with the villains proper, with the return of an unexpected figure.

Yang’s shotgun-oriented punch connected with the sole of Mercury’s metallic limb, the bullets and buckshots produced by both ramming into one-another and reducing the both of them to shards of shrapnel. The force of their combined confrontation shot the wind hurtling back in either direction, the two of them retreating a step, intensity in their stances and body language not slipping an inch. Mercury aimed a high-angled kick for Yang’s head, but the blonde brawler was more than prepared for it, bringing her gauntlet up to cushion the impact and pushed him off from her with force. Mercury anticipated the block, adjusting his own footing and allowed Yang’s own strength to slingshot him around in a roundhouse kick to landed flush against Yang’s cheek, knocking her down onto her side in a heap, coughing and spluttering; shaking her head clear of the buzzing in her ears and blurred vision the swift display of offence was causing her. 

Mercury’s next attack came without warning or consideration for Yang’s health, much unlike the rules and conduct one could expect from the Vytal Tournament: in the form of an axe-kick levelled at the top of her head, aiming with the aid of both gravity and his heavy limb to splatter Yang’s head across the ground. Fortunately, Yang was quick to react, rolling out the way and sweeping with a quick and lithe display of her own reactions to Mercury’s own ankle, knocking him off balance for a momentary window. Seeing her opportunity present itself to readily, Yang sprung back up onto her feet, and let out a guttural cry as she swung her right fist in a hook, Mercury bending back- fists drawn up- to dodge it by the skin of his teeth. Once again, Yang had anticipated that. She wasn’t the same fighter who relied on resilience and semblance alone to fight: swinging widlly until she connected with an adversary, she was beginning to use her brain and combat awareness to think two or three moves ahead. Instead of destabilising her balance in said wild swing, she swept a foot around to compensate and jabbed under her corresponding arm to land a light but effective blow to the bridge of Mercury’s nose. The boy reeled back, grunting his pain out as he spat some blood away, his tongue running across the roof of his mouth and teeth to check there wasn’t any permanent injury sustained by the wide-reaching attack of the blonde. 

“Lucky shot.” Mercury scowled, readopting his offensive stance. 

“You run your mouth pretty quick. Impressive you can run at all for a guy with no legs.”

If Yang’s effective jab on his nose and mouth had annoyed Mercury, the newest jab certainly pushed him into the realms of anger, his brow narrowing as he seethed at the blonde.

“You’re dead.” 

Mercury leapt into the air, the power of his semblance propelling him above Yang’s head, aiming another vertical kick to connect with the apex of Yang’s cranium. The blonde brought both gauntlets up defensively to block, but this proved to be exactly what Mercury wanted; Yang catching the formations of a grin as it spread out from the corners of his mouth. He used her gauntlets like a springboard, catapulting himself up towards the rafters of the building, landing on them as he flipped through the air. He dangled a foot off the edge, aiming the barrel in his foot over Yang, kicking the projectiles out towards her. Yang leapt into a roll, sprinting away from the trail of bullets following her as she sought to avoid being peppered by bullets until she resembled Swiss Cheese more than a Huntress.

She was yellow enough as she was, no need to further the comparison, or so she thought. 

Every kick of the trigger in his legs and acrobatic roll and weaving movement Yang used to evade Mercury’s attack reduced the gap between bullet and target; Mercury growing closer with each prevailing shot. He picked up the pace, sacrificing accuracy for a barrage of wind-aided and breaking slugs raining down around Yang. She turned, looking up at the impending congregation of projectiles and groaned angrily, eyes momentarily flashing red as fire crackled out along her hair. She pulled both arms back and without a moment’s hesitation she launched two explosive bolts of buckshots surrounded by an aura of the fiery aftermath of her exploding semblance. An inferno-laden pair of buckshots spiralled through the air, disintegrating Mercury’s own bullets and continued on towards him, unabated. 

Realizing the disparity in strength between his own bullets and Yang’s, as well as the impending danger of such a powerful blast coming straight for him, Mercury leapt away; falling down to the floor below as Yang’s own missile exploded on contact with the metalwork supporting the roof, shards of debris and concrete falling into the body of water surrounding the Submarine belonging to the white Fang. Avoiding the debris and ensuing detonation proved easy enough for Mercury by using his semblance as a protective barrier of wind currents, at the same time helping him back up from Yang and minimize any damage to his metal limbs by reducing his momentum when he landed on the ground.

Once more they squared off, Yang launching her own volley of bending and arcing, scorching shells from her gauntlets aimed squarely at Mercury. He ducked inside, sliding across the ground to use his horizontal axis to outmanoeuvre even Yang’s unpredictable projectiles. He drew himself within melee range of Yang, only for the blonde to twist her body to one side and fire off her shotgun, utilizing the momentum provided by it to spin her around and level a spinning backfist with Mercury’s neck. The assassin defensively kicked the inside of Yang’s arm away from himself with his own gunshot-aided strike, only to be caught off-guard by Yang leading with a left-handed uppercut to the chin, knocking Mercury for a stumble. 

Mercury was stunned, gasping for breath and feeling the split in his chin begin to ebb and flow with fresh plasma. This wasn’t the same girl whom he had taken it easy on in the Vytal Tournament, the one who was weak and uncomfortable with an athletic opponent who led with a variety of kick-based offence. It had only been six or seven months, how had she improved to such a degree that, especially with her heavier frame, she could perform such a complicated bait and switch manoeuvre; striking him without a second’s thought. It was unparalleled skill. 

“Guess that’s first and second blood to me. Step it up, Merc, I’d like a challenge.” Yang goaded, halfway smiling as she brought her fists back up into a fighting pose. This was proving to be an enjoyable experience for her, all of Weiss’ training at utilising dodging and evasion along with stringing together offence and counter-offence to unsettle your opponent was working wonders.

Although the fight was nowhere close to being over.

 

Silver’s eyes darted from left to right, trying to find any clue or indication of where Emerald was located, her semblance shrouding her in nothingness, leaving Silver practically blind to her whereabouts.

“I’m going to make you pay for making me look like a failure in front of Cinder back at the Attack on Beacon.” Emerald’s fractured and distorted voice echoed imperceivably around Silver; unable to discern where it was being projected.

“Silver! Right flank, duck!” Linen warned, standing off to Silver’s left several feet behind his leader; using him as a human shield as he was instructed for his own safety. 

Unwaveringly, Silver ducked and tilted off to his left, Emerald’s Revolver-Sickle flickered into reality, slicing through the air above him, nicking his fringe and pulling a few strands of loose hair with her. Comprehending the opportunity presented to him, Silver’s instincts kicked into gear. He slammed his fist into her gut, causing the dark-skinned woman to gag from the forceful punch, before following it up in combination with an open-palmed strike to the side of her face: sending the woman for a skitter as she thumped into the ground and slid away. As she slid further away from her two adversaries, her body and weapons flickered once more, disappearing from Silver’s sight, much to his consternation. Despite the fact the outcome of that engagement had been favourable to him, his reactions and timing were being pushed to their limits. By this point in the fight, Emerald had already shallowly cut his arm and side of his abdomen, causing a low-level bleeding and distracting pang of pain. It was only thanks to a lack of variety in her offence that had prevented further or escalation of injury, her strikes getting closer and closer to landing a blow each time she moved in for the kill, only thanks to Linen’s intervention. 

That was also part of the problem, Silver admitted gratingly. Half of his mind was focused on protecting Linen and making sure at least one of them could perceive their enemy and have one working body between the two of them. Once or twice he found himself nervously doubling back to shield Linen, only to have Emerald opportunistically cut him open for letting his guard down. 

“Oh shit! Incoming projectile, centre-mass!” Linen informed his teammate, breaking Silver from his reverie. No point in planning on worrying about an opponent he couldn’t properly observe. 

“Winging it again, I guess…” He mumbled, dodging to the left as Emerald’s Kusarigama whizzed past his already bleeding flank, having altered in form to its mid-range configuration.

In that moment, an epiphany struck Silver like a speeding locomotive. Emerald could only keep up her illusions when she was concentrating, stood relatively still. However, movement disengaged her semblance. Not being one to pass up a fortuitous opening, Silver wrapped his fingers around the chain of Emerald’s weapon, squeezing tight on it to make sure his sense of touch wasn’t also being messed with. When he felt the cool metal press against his skin even after it flickered out of sight, he smirked victoriously. With a mighty tug of the weapon, he pulled Emerald straight to him, mouth agape as her surprise of Silver’s quick thinking was now evident for the whole world to see. She shot straight forward, comically flying towards Silver head-first, only for the Faunus to redirect her trajectory, instead angling her up to the sky; only for one last heave of her chain sent her crashing down from fifteen feet in the air, back-first, into the concrete below, sending spiralling cracks out around her. Emerald’s back arched in pain, a raspy groan escaping her lips as she lay prone. 

“Just so you know, I didn’t make you look like a failure; I only exposed what you really are. Better me do it then yourself. Somewhat less embarrassing.” Silver belittled Emerald.

With his enemy at his mercy, Silver opted to eliminate her. However, the thought of killing someone so defenceless seemed...wrong. Unjustifiable in his mind, and he couldn’t bring himself to kill her. He was turning a new leaf after all. In the past, if Silver thought it aided justice and was the pragmatic option, he would kill without a second thought. Now, however, he was thinking differently. Surely a Huntsman wouldn’t kill even their greatest nemesis? A Huntsman was honourable, merciful and compassionate. With this in mind, Silver fell to the ground below, pincer-ing his legs around Emerald’s and wrapping both hands tight to her ankle, twisting it in a sickening angle as he applied an ankle-lock. Emerald screamed in pain as Silver unrelentingly continued his gross level of torque to her bone, her hand striking and patting his hip and thigh in a desperate attempt to beat him off, until a sickening snap informed Silver he had broken her ankle off its socket: Emerald’s body falling limp thanks to the shock causing her to faint after she had violently seized up; her body’s final fleeting attempt at escape. 

“Do me a favour: Don’t get up.” Silver informed his unconscious opponent, doubling over with hands on his knees as he tried to collect his spent energy, his body feeling particularly drained and rickety like a house of cards that was being nudged to the point of collapse. Silver eventually dropped down to a knee, said knee jolting against the ground punitively, causing him to curse and seethe in pain.

“Silver! Are you okay?” Linen asked, concernedly.

“Nah…I’m done. Running on empty…” He begrudgingly admitted. Defeatedly, he smiled emptily at Linen. “I think…we’re at the end of the road, old buddy.”

Taking a moment to register the strange look of resignation in his friend’s usually disobedient and rebellious gun-metal eyes, Linen slumped into a sitting position beside Silver, and leant his head against the taller boy’s shoulder in brotherly love and compassion.

“No crazy plan or concoction?”

Silver looked around them, his eyes settling on the crates and containers of Dust, brimming with power and volatility. A second epiphany struck Silver in a matter of minutes, eyes widening as he looked down to the Claws of Fenrir; gloves bristling with energy and fiery life that was yet to be extinguished. 

“Maybe…just one.”

 

Augmenting her own speed with what little aura that wasn’t currently being supressed by her alcoholic induced stupor, Red barrelled towards Lucian at blinding speeds, raking her Gun-Knives along the ground create a trail of sparks streaming out behind her. Red dipped down to slide on her hips, slashing at the air in front of Lucian as she neared him, subsequently dodging his wild swing at where her head used to be, and slung a series of sparks at his face. 

Reactively, Lucian brought up his forearm to block to burning embers from burning his eyes and face, the heat singing his skin, resulting in him biting on his lip to subdue his vocalisation of pain. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his calf, his knee buckling, noticing Red had dug her blade into it as she passed him by. Immediately after, he felt a tight constraint wrap around his other ankle, looking down to see a black ribbon leading away from it, followed by a potent inclination pulling off his feet; falling onto his back unceremoniously. Grunting his anger and pain away, trying to maintain focus, he heard a battle cry from above, focusing his eyes on the figure of a descending Blake: Gambol Shroud aimed at his throat. 

Self-preservation kicking in, Lucian rolled out from under the tip of Blake’s sword, narrowly avoiding being skewered by her Katana as it sank into the concrete where he had once resided.  
Red flicked her revolvers back into their firearm form, blades retracting as she unloaded several rounds in Lucian’s direction, lips pulled apart in a tight snarl, wanting nothing more than to kill him with every shot laced with furious and murderous intent. Lucian dodged the first few bullets, but Red’s accuracy and mixture of angles in which she fired her akimbo weaponry meant one was bound to hit him sooner or later. However, Lucian had already grasped his metal handgun prior to Red’s onslaught, his right arm phasing into metal, and used this to deflect the ensuing gathering of projectiles. 

Blake once again came at him, this time from his other unguarded, flesh-and-blood, flank. Nothing but contempt drove her blade onwards, thoughts of Ruby’s glassy-eyed stare as her fingers tentatively explored her new bullet-wound at the hands of Lucian filled Blake’s mind. She was infuriated, burning with a passionate flame to make Lucian pay for what he did that would have dwarfed even Yang’s strongest inferno that coupled with her semblance. It should have unnerved Blake just how careless and ferocious she was being; and maybe she still would when she had time to consider and reflect on what she was doing, but as of right then it only served to spur her on and fight Lucian that much more enthusiastically. 

This time Lucian didn’t have time to reposition himself, but his aura took the brunt of Blake’s sword, bouncing off weakly from his gut instead of carving him open like had been intended. Thanks to their newly adopted positions, Lucian reached around and brought his flesh-and-blood fist down on the back of Blake’s head, knocking her down to her knees as Gambol Shroud skittered out of her hands. 

Coming to her ally’s aid, Red jumped in with her Wile and Deception in their Gun-Knife forms, slashing down from Lucian’s shoulder to his heart, only for the larger man’s metallic limb to catch Red by both wrists, and threw her backwards at a shipping container framing the fight from a few metres away. Red, acrobatically, flipped through the air and grabbed hold of the edge of the crate whilst facing away from it, before pulling herself up and over it in a cartwheel to stand on top of the container, displaying a stunning level of core strength and dexterity. 

Switching back to her ranged weaponry, reloading Wile and Deception, the guns now brimming with the golden trim of light of lightning infused Dust. Having the high ground in her favour, Red smiled confidently and provocatively down at Lucian, whom could only snarl angrily back at her as she fired a volley of bullets. 

Lucian, as before, brought his arm up as a protective shield from Red’s overhead assault. “You just don’t learn, do you? Your bullets can’t-!” Lucian spoke arrogantly, not registering the subtle change in tone of her guns nor what it implied. The bullets cracked and shattered on impact as usual, but this time yellow strands and bolts of electricity shot outwards, running down his limbs and causing his whole body to spasm involuntarily while he cried out at the pain coursing through his muscles, his entire skeletal frame flickering with the intermittent glow of the electricity permeating throughout his body.

Blake stood behind Lucian, Gambol Shroud recovered in her hands, and held the blade above her head like an executioner of time long since passed. Face contort in antagonism for the man kneeling below her, she brought the blade down upon his head in an attempt to kill him once and for all. However, it would only prove an attempt. Lucian, struggling against the static wrestling control for his body, brought his hands up to clasp the sword between at the final second, stopping it only inches from his hairline. 

Blake’s eyes widened, startled that Lucian was capable of stopping what she was convinced was the killing blow from how close they were and how limited his movement should have been thanks to Red’s timely offence. He shouldn’t have had the time, nor the reactions, to stop the attack and yet somehow, he fought through his paralysis to stop her, even if his flesh-and-blood hand had been carved open from Blake’s blade as it helped to stop it in place; blood now dripping onto and staining his hair. 

Blake was then pulled away by her sword as Lucian tightened his grasp on it, throwing her like a ragdoll into the container Red was perched on. She clattered into it so hard it dented the metalwork, lurching the container backwards and knocked Red off balance, eventually tumbling downwards when she couldn’t restore her equilibrium. Lucian reared back, and caught Red by the cheek with a sickening blow from his Flesh-and-blood hand, wholly shifting her flightpath to the horizontal; casting her off to the periphery where she slid away from him, lifeless as she came to a halt across the room. 

Blake groaned at the pain in her back like a knife had been lodged in it or, rather, a hundred knives distributed randomly across it. She patted her dominant hand around, trying to find and retrieve Gambol Shroud once more, eventually finding both trigger and handle, until Lucian’s boot cruelly stomped on top of her hand and preventing her from lifting it off the ground with herself. Blake cried out in pain, gasping and moaning as Lucian dug his jackboot tight to Blake’s hand and the ground below her. Eventually, he relented in his torture of Blake’s hand, only to grab her by both of her wrists and lift her up to his level, her feet dangling off the ground by several inches. 

Heartlessly, he pinned Blake to the dented container she had been thrown into moments ago, her head smashing against the metal and she grimaced in anguish. 

Lucian reduced the distance further between the two of them, noses practically touching as she peered into those soulless and furious pair of crimson eyes, face creased in a permanent scowl. Blake’s eyes bristled with tears, stinging from the unshed moisture, but tried her best to look defiant in the face of such a monster.

“No need to fear me, your majesty of our race. I’m not going to kill you.” Blake’s eyebrows jumped at his admission, much as it looked like he was struggling to convince himself it wouldn’t be pleasurable to end her life given she was weak and defenceless. “No, I’m going to let you live. And you know what I’m going to do? To a traitor like you, who would abandon our cause and fall in love with worthless human scum?” Blake shivered in anger, baring her teeth in Lucian’s direction at the idea he would insult Ruby like that. Lucian brought his lips to Blake’s ears, a cruel and callous smile painted across them, stretching from ear to ear. “I’m going to do to her, exactly what Adam did to you. And I’ll make you watch. Every. Last. Thrust.”

Blake’s wrath and rage bubbled over until it became pure white anger, blindingly so, until she could hear nothing but white noise permeating in her ears above the sounds of clashing metal and gunshots.

Blake started to swing, back and forth, like a pendulum. Lucian didn’t pay it any mind, finding only what he assumed to be Blake’s useless attempts at struggling against him. What he failed to notice, however, was despite being consumed by rage, Blake’s intellect was being directed by her instincts, using her momentum to press her feet against the shipping container; kicking off and swiftly kicking Lucian right in the crotch with both shins pushing deep and sickeningly tight to his groin. 

“I WON’T LET YOU TOUCH RUBY!” Blake screamed, ferociously, as she dropped to the ground once Lucian’s grasp failed at the overriding pain at being kicked in the crotch, eyes bulging as if they were ready to pop out his head.

Scrambling over to Gambol Shroud, Blake snatched it up and stood side-on to Lucian; lifting her blade over her head like an executioner once more, hands shaking in quiet rage as she silently seethed through clenched teeth. Blake once more brought down her sword across Lucian’s neck, only to fail to notice his metallic limb was swinging at her with enough force to redirect her weaponry, sparks crackling away as the two metals grinded atop one another. Lucian’s vitality and recovery rate were astonishing, even as he dry-heaved from the pain in his nether regions. 

Growling at his seemingly bottomless pool of luck in which to draw near-escapes from over and over again, Blake swung her sword with considerably less control and far more mettle; her entire arm brimming with dark purple aura as she screamed out her animosity for the White Fang leader.

Lucian, this time, only had the luxury of extending his metallic palm out to meet with Blake’s blade, her attack coming quicker than he was capable of preparing another defence thanks to the un-telegraphed and swift follow up to her previous slash. Cold, hard metal flesh met with obsidian-coloured aura and blade, bursting and grinding like two high-speed cars scraping past one-another with the force of tectonic plates. Eventually, Blake’s Gambol Shroud overpowered Lucian’s hasty and unprepared fingertips; slicing through index, middle and ring finger like a knife through melting butter.

Blake was slipped out from under the crushing and demanding weight of her fury, by the high-pitched wail and cry of Lucian, his unharmed limb shooting to the slowly-receding metal-covered hand Blake had wounded. He kicked and screamed in agony, back arching and body twisting as he couldn’t possibly comprehend the levels of pain shooting up and down his arm. Blake assumed if his entire arm had been metal, then it would obviously require a greater amount of force to slice it off when compared to flesh and blood. The problem with this, she presumed, is that it did indeed make for a stellar defence against most blunt and sharp weaponry but also if the nerves in his body were properly able to comprehend all that extra torque and strain applied to it then the pain would be maddening to experience. There could be no adequate description for how agonising and mind-shattering it must have felt like. No descriptors adequately contextualised the levels of suffering that sensation possibly was.

Only the contorted muscles of Lucian’s face as he screamed his throat bloody, coughing up the plasma and dribbled it down his chin, slowly pulling himself up against the container to his back, hands shaking irrevocably could possibly display how uncomfortable it was. Beady and deranged eyes errantly stared daggers at Blake, however off-kilter and eccentric their focus was.

“G-G-Go on then…finish it…” He scowled as Blake deadpanned him, looking dispassionately at her fallen foe. “Y-You won’t…you don’t have it in you to kill someone. It’s why Adam had you under his t-thumb all this time. You don’t have the strength of your convictions, just run, pussy cat. Run like you always do.” 

Blake grimaced angrily at Lucian, lips so parted as her teeth locked down on top of each-other her faintly pink gums showed. She lifted Gambol Shroud, one last time, to finally kill Lucian: Third time’s the charm, after all.

But her hands hesitated, Blade jolting but not moving more than an inch or two any closer to his heart. A picture of Ruby’s wounded and distressed face filtered into her mind, and Blake was all the angrier for it. He had hurt her. It was his fault. This was justice. 

And then she realized it. That’s what Adam would have said. Whatever she felt for Ruby, love, friendship, sisterhood; it was fuelling this animalistic malice within her. 

There was no way she would end up like Adam. Never. Not even if this fight proved to be her last. Blake was many things to herself: A failure, a coward, a traitor and an untrustworthy friend undeserving of someone as perfect as Ruby Rose’s love. But if there was one thing Blake knew she wasn’t, it was Adam Taurus. It was Lucian. 

She was not a senseless killer, even for Ruby. She could imagine Ruby’s shocked and horrified expression at learning Blake killed for her. Because of her. Unlike Blake, who stuffed and hid her emotions so deep inside of her she wasn’t even sure they were there at times, Ruby was an open book who wore her heart on her sleeve. She wouldn’t be okay with that knowledge because she was a better person than that. 

And if Blake aspired to be like anything, it was Ruby.

“No…I won’t. Ruby wouldn’t want me to.” Blake sighed, slumping her shoulders as the fatigue drained out of her body after expelling a deep and welcome breath, lowering Gambol Shroud to her side.

Lucian chuckled pointedly. 

“W-What did I tell you? You’re weak. You could be stronger than any Faunus Blake, you could be the Queen of our people, but you listen to that worthless trash you call a teammate. A disgusting human who uses you, someone better than her, and reaps the rewards. Familiar story, isn’t it? Don’t you see how she makes you weak? Toothless? Fangless?!” 

“She made me strong enough to beat you!” Blake countered, and swiftly kicked Lucian across the jaw with a penalty kick, knocking him unconscious. “I don’t need to kill to be strong. I have an inner strength you would never understand.”

 

Blake then doubled back, joining Yang as she lined up with Silver and Linen, Red limping over to kneel alongside her teammates as well after having shakily awoken herself, cradling her head in her hands.

“Ow…fuck, and I thought the hangover was going to be bad…” Red complained.

Meanwhile, across from them, Mercury stood shouldering the weight of the unconscious Emerald, whilst simultaneously making sure Lucian was still breathing; the Bear-Faunus grasping his wounded hand and sending Mercury biting remarks with an unconvincing raspy voice, struggling to find any equilibrium that his body had to offer, slumping to his knees with every attempt at rising. 

They had definitely come out the better, or so Yang had thought, her own face was slightly bruised and her muscles were burning and screaming at the build-up of lactic acid, but by all means they were standing relatively uninjured apart from Silver and Red, who no doubt took the most significant injuries out of anyone from the combat itself. Regardless, she noticed the flaring orange glow along Cinder’s visible eye from above, her scowl growing in size as her displeasure at the incompetence of her own soldiers to defeat a ragtag team of Beacon students obviously displeased her. 

Yang cleared her mind of any proud notions of success at beating Mercury back a second time since meeting him, this time in an unsanctioned affair which by itself was a mightily impressive accomplishment, since she was acutely aware of just how dire the situation was. Besides Emerald’s injury, none of their enemies had been neutralised. Of course, Lucian was barely able to stay upright but so long as he was conscious he still prosed an eminent threat. Finally, it would only prove a matter of time until Cinder involved herself, and from her experience of Viridian’s powers she didn’t like the chances five tired and beaten Hunters-in-training had against the power a megalomaniacal Maiden possessed.

“Anybody got any bright ideas?” Yang asked, cracking her knuckles against each open palm that ensnared them. “Because I’ve got nothing.”

“I’ve got one, but you’re not going to like it.” Silver answered, still kneeling down, his brow thick with perspiration from the fighting. 

“It can’t be worse than fighting to death.” Blake said, using her dark humour to attempt to lighten the mood somewhat. 

“How about blowing ourselves up and taking them with us?” Silver responded, a cocked eyebrow to see just how honest Blake was with her joke and if it actually transitioned into reality. 

Unsurprisingly, he was met with immediate silence, Blake’s back stiffening as she clearly realized this wasn’t as much of a joking matter as she had assumed it would be.

“Thought as much.” Silver sighed.

“How would we…do that?” Yang asked tentatively, and Silver gestured with his thumb to the stockpile of multitudes of Dust within the storage facility they currently found themselves in.

“Chain reaction. One box gets set off, the whole place goes sky-high. We die, but we stop them from whatever they’re planning.”

There was a heavy silence.

Weight-of-the-world-heavy.

“But…Weiss…” Yang’s hand went over her heart, eyes wide and beady with fear at the thought of losing the girl she loved.

“And Ruby…” Blake added in addendum, mirroring her partner’s shocked and disturbed expression. It wasn’t fair. Ruby had seemed so broken up and despondent about a simple crush over Blake. How would she react to not only losing her, but also her own sister? She’d be lucky to only be crippled emotionally by it, the sheer grief alone would be enough to attract enough Grimm to invade Vale regardless of how active or strong the Anti-Grimm defences of the Kingdom were. 

And Blake, well, she didn’t want to die. Not without figuring out how she felt for Ruby. She didn’t want to leave that kiss unanswered, unfinished. There were so many things she still had left to do. Dismantle the White Fang, lead the Faunus to proper equality, reunite with her parents and apologise for leaving them for the White Fang. It was a draining sensation, because she knew if they didn’t do that then they’d die fighting down here against the rest of the White Fang and Cinder, and nobody would know. Only Viridian, Ruby, Weiss and JNPR would have any idea; and who would believe them?

“Look, I know it’s scary. None of us want to do this but as Huntsmen and Huntresses…” Silver began, before a sudden crackle and burst in the air behind him interrupted him and forced him to turn around to address his curiosity. His eyes widened at the pulsating crimson before him. “…Holy shit.”

Yang quirked an eyebrow in surprise at how quickly Silver lost his train of thought at the smallest of noises and his reaction to whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that significant. 

“What are you…” Yang began, turning back to see the most unexpected figure of the catalogue of people she knew to be standing in front of her. “Mum?!”

Raven stood there, authoritatively, mask covering her face, but her stature and clothing combined with her name-sake coloured hair were all the evidence you needed to make the correct assumption as to who she was. She swept her vision alongside the five Beacon students and dutifully nodded her head as she tallied them up mentally. 

“Good, I wasn’t too late then.” She finally spoke, and just hearing her Mother’s voice was enough to send shivers up and down Yang’s spine. The last time she saw the woman, her sword had been rammed through her gut, so to say she was torn on how to properly respond would have been an understatement. Without skipping a beat, Raven pointed to the portal, staring Yang in the eye. “Get your friends in the portal. Now! I’ll explain once you’re all safe.” She demanded, not leaving a thread in how she addressed her daughter for there to be any debate. This was an order, true and true.

“Raven?!” Cinder screamed, indignantly at the appearance of the legendary warrior, leaning over the railing in disbelief, face tight with confusion and her growing malice. “What are you doing here?!”

Raven chuckled, amused, and slowly drew off her helmet to address Cinder, a grin swelling across her lips. “Just following orders.” She winked, and turned on her heels. “Portal, now!” she reiterated. 

“You know her?!” Yang questioned wildly. 

“Complicated history, would love to explain, maybe later, but portal: Now!” 

One by one, the students filed into the portal until only Raven, Yang and Silver hadn’t passed through the haven that hopefully awaited them all, when Silver stopped to look at Yang with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and a smile so devious that it better belonged to some Saturday afternoon cartoon supervillain than a former-mercenary-turned-honourable-Huntsman. 

He pointed to the stacks upon stacks of Dust that could more than supply an entire army, drawing Yang’s attention in that direction.

“Hey Yang, how about we send them out…” He began.

“With a _Yang?_ ” The lavender-eyed blonde interjected, smiling jovially.

“Stop ruining my fun and blow them up already.” Silver said, before Raven forcefully pushed the Wolf-Faunus through the portal, a string of expletive-laden complaints being cut off as he disappeared into the void. 

“You heard him. Finish it.” Raven ordered, waiting for Yang to do as instructed, observing her daughter with what appeared to be the slightest of inclinations of a proud smile.

Yang launched an explosive bolt from her gauntlets, and that’s when the mother of all lightshows began. 

Yang had worked with Dust, usually individual pieces, but by no means was she an expert like Weiss was in using it. She knew it to be a volatile substance, hence why there was such a high-mortality rate amongst those who worked in the mines where it was found. Beyond that, it wasn’t easy to control unless it was synthesised for a particular usage, and Yang found a good old shotgun shell usually did just as good a job at killing Grimm, so it seemed an unnecessary for her to use.

But after seeing the initial ceiling-high detonation of ice climbing skywards like a sub-zero skyscraper, a tornado and eruption of wind and fire swirling in perfect synchronicity that burn all it touched to ash, gravity wells sucking in and shooting out any and all objects weaker than its own draw as well as a litany of elemental combinations and conflicts resulting in apocalyptic levels of annihilation; atomising everything in its immediate vicinity as the growing storm of destruction consumed everything in its path: Yang considered she may have to change her stance on Dust weaponry.

“Let’s go!” Raven said, placing her helmet on her head and nudging Yang in the direction of the portal.

“Right!” Yang affirmed, running straight through the portal, othering one last glance as the Dust-based-storm of destruction headed straight for Cinder and her cohorts, shaking her disappointedly and having to condemn them all to death, it wasn’t in her nature, but it was the only choice if they wanted to put down whatever scheme they were preparing to enact. It was for the people of Vale’s sake. All of Remnant’s sake. 

She balled her fist tight, and stepped through the portal with her Mother, just before the inferno reached them.

 

Yang stepped out onto a roof. She could tell because of the biting chill of the wind indicative of a higher altitude. Littered around the roof of whatever building they stood on, was the various forms of her friends.

Red was cradling Linen, progressively ripping off more and more of her shirt’s remaining sleeve and collar and hem until it resembled a wrap or a strapless bra more than a shirt; also discarding her corset shamelessly to the side. Each castoff piece of fabric was stained in blood from Red washing Linen’s wounds clean of blood. She was doting over him excessively, although from his peaceful face rested atop her bosom with shut eyes and a harmonious smile on his face he didn’t appear to be minding her nonstop attention.

“How many ribs do I have to break before the worlds cuts me a break?” Silver whimpered, lying down next to Blake, who rolled her eyes as she tried her best to subdue a chuckle that so badly wanted to poke fun at Silver and his antics, as she sat with her knees drawn close to her chest. 

Yang couldn’t help but break out into a subtle and thankful smile for how quickly their attitudes and mindsets had quickly transitioned into jovial and far more upbeat from the group that were seriously considering their own self-sacrifice. Fortunately, that would prove to be nothing more than a memory that would fade with time, and they had an unexpected saviour to thank for that.

Raven brushed passed Yang lightly, shoulders touching gently, walking over to the edge of the rooftop, pointing into the distance of the night. Yang followed her Mother’s gesture, peering off into the distance where she saw the Docks they had met Torchwick were.

They were adjacent, several hundred metres away but still easily within eyesight of the location where the hidden base had been. The ground towards the centre of the numerous warehouses jittered and bent upwards, sending low quivering’s over to them before everything finally settled and gradually sunk back down into place. It appeared that the explosion she had set off hadn’t been powerful to cause wide-ranging devastation to much outside its immediate vicinity. That relieved Yang, she didn’t want collateral damage or the loss of innocent life on her conscience. 

“Hmph. You really are _my_ daughter after all.” Raven addressed the blonde. 

“What do you mean?”

“Leaving destruction in your wake. It was good thinking.” Yang couldn’t really tell from her Mother’s tone what the intent was meant to be, it sounded like chiding but it equally could have been pride or indifference, she didn’t know the woman enough to be able to tell in all honesty. 

“Mum…” started, steeling herself as she fisted her hands, trying to distil the disquiet within her. “Thank you. For coming back.” She smiled, loosely, catching her Mother’s interest just enough for her Mother to notice the formations of a playful grin. “For once.”

For the first time in her life, Yang heard her Mother laugh. Not mockingly, not cruelly, genuinely laugh. She took her hand off the casing of her sword’s holster, and covered her mouth in delight at Yang’s comment. Yang thought she looked…strangely beautiful. Serene, even, lighting a comforting warmth she didn’t know she could feel. Yang wondered if this is what her Dad had felt, when they were together, if this was a feeling that could only be inspired by seeing her Mother in such a way. A unique gift the woman rarely, if ever, bestowed. 

“You’ve been around your uncle too much.” Raven replied evenly, recovering from her mirth. 

Yang’s smile slowly relented upon her face, adopting a much more neutral expression, and Raven definitely noticed it; mirroring her child in posture and presentation, hand once again resting stop her sword’s casing; not in a threatening way but rather as one she so readily embraced it had become second nature.

“Why did you save us?” Yang asked. “It doesn’t help further your objective.”

Yang immediately regretted her addendum, thinking it was bitter and cold whereas all she wanted it to be was logical. Raven’s eyes turned downcast in a solemn and lonely way, one only a person who lived a troubled life could possibly wear honestly. Yang felt like her stomach dropped from a ten-story building thanks to her guilt.

Raven sighed. She looked up from the ground towards Yang’s stomach, her midriff exposed thanks to her particular style of apparel and traced her eyes along the faint scar poking out along her flank. Raven grimaced, hand balling into a fist.

“Ozpin sent me. Or, more accurately, requested I save you.” Raven admitted. “Part of our allegiance was hinged upon nobody gaining access to the codes team SLVR have. I didn’t use those codes as leverage over Ozpin, and in return he kept them under his own custody. Knowing we both could lose our leverage and give Salem an upper hand in this war was not something either of us was willing to tolerate. So, I stepped in, willingly.” Raven explained. “Besides, I already violated my personal rule of not interfering in your life to save it when you fought Silver. Why not make an exception for my own daughter?” Raven shrugged, smiling, and Yang could appreciate the…roundabout way in which her Mother essentially admitted she couldn’t just let her die like that. Of course, this was all inference, she still didn’t know the woman well enough to properly tell, but she liked the thought and stuck with it because of that.

“For what it’s worth: I’m glad you did.” Raven nodded, and turned her back to the students, hand gesturing across her face strangely. If Yang didn’t know any better, she would assume her Mother was wiping away stray tears. 

“You should all get going. Ozpin knows you’re out well beyond your curfew and from what I recall from being his student he has a zero-tolerance policy on that, as well as throwing yourselves into dangerous scenarios without informing him prior to the event.”

“Please don’t tell Jaune that.” Silver begged.

“Although, I think he may go soft on you all for bringing an end to the second conspiracy to overthrow Vale in a matter of months.” Raven chuckled quietly. 

“What about you?” Yang asked. “Are you…leaving? Again?” Yang bit onto her bottom lip, she still didn’t like the idea of her estranged Mother remaining estranged, even if her ethics were dubious at best. 

“Salem knows I’ve picked a side, she has for some time now. Straying too far runs the risk of being targeted openly. I’ll go where the wind takes me. But I won’t ever be too far away.” Raven sighed, dipping her head. “And for what _it’s_ worth, Yang, I promise that.

“Now, you really should all get going. Ozpin’s temper is rarely seen, but it legendary: I can assure you.”

 

The five of them begun their travels back towards Beacon in the midst of what was still proving to be a damp night. The rain lightly drizzled over everyone, though it came at a significant relief to everything else they had experienced in the last few hours or so. Getting wet was mundane, and they were all ecstatic to be back to something vaguely normal. 

Silver carried Linen bridal-style across both arms, his jacket thrown over the injured member of his team to keep him warm and dry, Red sticking close to both of her teammates to check on Linen whilst also giving Silver a somewhat jealous glare that he was strong enough to carry Linen and she was not. 

Blake’s hand snaked around Yang’s wrist, alerting the blonde, as they stopped mid-walk in the middle of the street.

“What’s up Blakey? Pretty intense look you’ve got there.” Yang acknowledged how focused the Faunus was, eyes refusing to blink.

“Yang. I’ve been thinking. We went through a lot tonight.” Blake stated.

“Understatement of the century. But go on.”

“I almost died out there. And it got me thinking. Life can be really short even if you survive to die of old age. We could lose everything in an instant. I don’t want to not do something just because it’s scary or because I’m uncertain. I might lose the chance to do it before I even come to a proper decision if I wait around for an answer to strike me.”

“That’s true but…morbid, even for you, Blake.” Yang responded warily to the pretext of what Blake wanted to tell her, but maintained her calmness. 

“I want your permission to ask your sister out.”

The gears in Yang’s head came to a grinding halt. Or rather than grinding, it was more akin to them anthropomorphising- growing little arms and legs and eyes- and deciding to stop and additionally stare at Blake as taken aback as Yang did. 

**_“E-Excuse me?”_ **

“Romantically. I want your permission to ask Ruby out. As her big sister I thought it would be best to-” Blake started before Yang threw up her free arm and waved back and forth errantly. 

“Hold up, hold up, hold up. You? And Ruby?” Blake’s cheeks flushed at Yang’s question, or maybe they had been like that for a while yet and Yang simply hadn’t noticed: lost in her own world. 

“Yes.” Blake gulped, admitting the truth to Yang. “It seemed like the right thing to do. To ask you, that is. She is your little sister after all. I didn’t want to go behind your back, you’re my best friend after all.”

That touched Yang, flustering at how much of an open book Blake was becoming in front of her. Made sense for the bookworm to finally become figuratively like her favourite pastime.  
Yang shook her head, long blonde tresses whipping back and forth. 

“Blake, you never had to ask me. I’m Ruby’s sister, not her Mother.” Yang grimaced once she realized her mouth operated a little too quickly for her brain, forgetting that (of course,) Ruby’s Mother was no longer among the living to ask and how that can be taken the wrong way. “A-Anyway, it’s sweet of you to ask. I do appreciate you taking my feelings into account.”

“So…what do you say?” Blake sucked both lips into her mouth nervously.

“I couldn’t think of a better person I’d trust Ruby’s happiness with more.” Yang smiled, taking both of Blake’s hands on top of her own, giving them a gentle squeeze, the Faunus reciprocating the expression and gesture of her friend. “Since when have you had the hots for my little sis?”

Blake chuckled breathlessly.

“It’s a long and…complicated story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Blake paused breathlessly, looking away from Yang, ears atop her head flickering nervously in the wind. “I should probably be honest with you though.”

“About what?” Yang inquired.

“I kinda…sorta…already may have kissed her.” Blake admitted.

“Wow…”

“I’m sorry. I know it was totally out of line but…!”

“And here I was thinking you were a cat.”

“I... beg your pardon?” Blake’s eyes widened.

“You dog, you!” Yang smirked, bumping Blake’s hips playfully with her own. “I never knew you had it in you, you sly dog: Blake Belladonna!”

“Ugh…” Blake grunted. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“It’s what you get for kissing my little sis.”

 

Smouldering black rubble clattered down to the ground: mixing with the mountains already surrounding it, bouncing and jumping from each larger piece of scorched earth that surrounded it, until it hit an incorporeal dome that flickered a dim orange, bouncing from it and settling on the ground. 

Smoke rose all around, not a trickle or beam of light to be seen for what seemed to be miles of darkness shrouded in only more darkness like some eternal abyss. The dome continued to flicker, creating fragments of light from where its orange effervescence spread. 

The dome eventually faded from the world around it, being replaced by a bright burning flame that illuminated the collapsed rubble in every direction that surrounded it. The flame burnt and wafted around Cinder Fall’s hand: Her facial expression indecipherable and impassive. The smallest of twitches atop her brow and the burning rage in her eyes reflecting the fireball that floated in front of her as if she were a demonic being straight from the bowels of Hell itself.

Mercury crouched by her side, cradling the still unconscious Emerald in his arms as Lucian lay next to him, still trying to stem the flow of blood from his fingertips severed by Blake, hissing breath from the constant pain.

“Branwen…” Cinder spat the name malevolently. “Making me a failure for the second time over. I will make her pay with her child’s blood, and all her useless friends. And Aloi…oh Silver Aloi, the justice I will make you suffer through will not be blind and it will not be deaf to your cries.”

“Cinder…” Lucian dragged himself up to his knee, the woman turning to look at him with disdain at his failures, until his confident smirk left her quizzical and curious. She crossed her arms over her chest, the flames framing her eyes of the Maiden’s Power that saved them extinguishing as she tilted her head upwards in a display of her superiority to him. “It would seem not all is lost today. In fact, I think you’ll find this is a more than acceptable transaction.”

Lucian flicked out a scroll, the lock-screen reading out two names:

**_Silver Aloi._ **

“It would seem our dear pickpocket was capable of an exhibition of sleight of hand under even strenuous and exemplary circumstances such as having her ankle broken.” 

Cinder’s smile burnt to life, like the fire in her eyes and she seized the scroll from Lucian’s hand, regarding it with the same marvel a pirate would at the discovery of fine silks and gold. 

“I’m sure we can gleam something of use from this. What treasure troves of secrets have you hidden in here, Silver…?” Cinder bent down and stroked the unconscious Emerald’s cheek, smiling wonderfully at her cohort. “Sleep well, my wonderful gem. You deserve it after such fine work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed as always.
> 
> Return of the punny title. You're welcome.
> 
> So the arc is finally done! Hurray! Let's get down to the summary.
> 
> Mercury and Yang was what was expected, a decent back and forth but Yang's more developed skill set easily gives her the edge over Mercury. Of course she's spitting off jokes at his expense, what else do you expect? I didn't give that particular fight a conclusion, but Yang more than had the upper hand to send him running.
> 
> Silver and Linen worked perfectly together to showcase how Emerald isn't a particularly strong fighter and that she relies too much on her semblance, once Linen strips that away the fight could only end in a Silver Aloi victory with a Linen Blanc assist. Silver showed off his grappling skills and quick thinking, making sure Emerald wasn't getting up after he beat her. 
> 
> Red and Blake even when teaming up still struggled with Lucian, the guy is a monster in more ways than one. Fortunately, Red is a sure-shot with a deceptive combination of weaponry that Lucian didn't take into account. Still, she got neutralised momentarily, just goes to show you need more than opportunism to defeat him like Adam. Also yeah, darn Lucian. Said some awful things about Ruby, and Blake didn't take too kindly. We've seen her use Gambol Shroud and her sheath to emit energy, so when bolstered with her aura I stand to assume it could cut off parts of a metallic limb. Good fighting Blake, Ruby would be proud. Also, growth for Blake. She didn't let herself be consumed by anger, realising her mistake in fighting so viciously just before making a grievous error, much as we as the audience might all want Lucian to bite the big one and kick the bucket.
> 
> Well, well, well, good old Raven to save the day? Who saw that coming? Ozpin told Viridian he had someone who was on their way to help Yang and Blake, but Raven? Guess she was feeling guilty about before. Or maybe it was pragmatism. Or maybe finally seeing her daughter and all the heroic choices she's been making reminded her of a certain team she was a part of before and that maybe offered some perspective. Who's to say? Either way, some redemption for her.
> 
> Of course Cinder and the main villains aren't dead. Maiden powers are crazy strong in this world, but at least her plans have been disrupted for the time being. 
> 
> Remember when Silver had Emerald in an ankle-lock and she was hitting at his thigh to try and beat him off? Guess her hand slipped in his pocket and grabbed his scroll. We knows she's deft enough to pull something off like that. She's not awake to explain to us why she chose his scroll specifically, but we know it contains everything Cinder needs to enact her plan. The only good thing is that she doesn't know that.
> 
> Yet.
> 
> Oh, and LadyBug is now Yang approved. Get excited all you patient LadyBug lovers.


	31. A Flower's Blossoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the battle, life begins to return to normal. For two Huntresses, however, things are about to dramatically change.

Routine and ordinary life within Beacon’s halls for teams RWBY, SLVR and JNPR was surprisingly restored without incident. There were rumours and theories spreading like wildfire surrounding the explosion at Vale’s docklands, and even some politicians and bureaucrats were being raked over the coals once the investigations by the authorities unearthed corruption and bribery, but for the most part anything involving or implicating the teams had failed to turn up. 

Ozpin had suggested this was probably best, for as much good as they had done working outside the authorities’ strict guidelines for Hunters operating within the kingdom (doubly so for unlicensed and unsupervised students) it was essentially vigilantism, and that would have been punishable through imprisonment. 

So, as it were, nobody knew how or why what had occurred across the few hours of that violent and blood-soaked night had originated from to begin with. For the citizens of Vale, that was indisputably the best outcome. If they had known en masse a secret White Fang army was operating under their own feet; that kind of fear could result in a spike of Grimm activity; and that was good for no-one.

Ozpin’s reaction was about as metred as one could expect, initially appearing more relieved for his students’ safety than angered at their brash and bold decision to run off with depleted numbers and no backup plan. Silver himself found this strange, but not unwelcome. Rather, that was probably the reaction everyone had. On the other hand, to suggest Ozpin was all smiles and tears of happiness was fundamentally wrong. They had still transgressed and broken the rules of the academy they attended, and as such, punishment was duly laid out upon them. Although, he did have the tiniest hints of pride when dolling out punishments, it would prove quite difficult to be genuinely angry at his students performing such heroic acts after all.

In all fairness, Silver, Red, Yang and Blake being forced to work for free as servers in the school cafeteria along with a week of after-class detention was probably not as heavy-handed or cruel a penance as they could have expected to pay. All in all, there wasn’t much complaining to be had.

 

Ruby felt the early morning light along with its softly disturbing warmth press against her face, not unlike a loving Mother’s touch, arousing her from her slumber. A small yawn escaped from her lips, and she rolled onto her good side, pulling one side of her pillow over the top of her head to ensnare it in hopes of blocking out the light and drifting back off to sleep.

“Yang, five more minutes…” Ruby lethargically groaned out between a pair of yawns, only for her grip to loosen enough for her pillow to snap back flat underneath her; serving to annoy her more as the light of the morning sun washed across her face again.

She heard a series of quick claps that added “Noise” to the growing list of things disrupting the inertia she had been enjoying up to that point. By this point she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to return to bed, but she could dream. Actually, no she couldn’t. That was kind of the problem. 

“Ruby, it’s already 9AM. I know you don’t have weapon’s training or sparring classes but it would be nice if you could join us at the least and stop acting like a lead weight?” Weiss rhetorically asked, and in passive-aggressive response, Ruby pulled the sheets of her bed over her head and curled up into a ball like a child might when pouting. 

Weiss rolled her eyes, finding the younger girl amusing in how she was acting instead of irritating, it was somewhat endearing to her at this point, although this was certainly not a new realization of hers.

“I am letting you use my bunk whilst your arm is in that sling you know? I recommend showing me how grateful you are and not sulk with regards to not getting to train? It’s only a few more days before the doctors said your shoulder would be good as new.” Weiss’ argumentation was typically flawless, Ruby had to admit. Her command over rhetoric and logic was second to none, and was usually impossible to dismantle. The only person who could reasonably defeat her was Yang, and she had to transcend that intimate barrier that only she was authorised to do (begrudgingly) by Weiss, so it was hardly a fair comparison. 

However, Ruby still couldn’t help but feel miserable. Yes, her shoulder was mostly fine and didn’t hurt too much. Yes, it would hold no permanent effects on her scythe-wielding skills except for being a little rusty since she hadn’t held it in over a week. And yes, whilst she should be grateful the scar on her shoulder wasn’t easily noticeable or all that ugly, she hated being static. She was a girl with a semblance of movement, never staying still; always on the road towards her next goal and self-improvement. Being confined to the bleachers as her friends and classmates trained and sparred was making her brain write “All work and no play makes Ruby a dull girl” on the inside of her skull. And that couldn’t be healthy.

For Ruby or brain, she didn’t know.

That was kind of the problem. 

Is this what they called cabin fever?

Ruby sighed, bringing an end to her internal conflict and slipped out from under the sheets- a black sling hugging her right arm against her chest with its strap carefully avoiding the darkened patch of skin that remained lightly bandaged around her shoulder- sitting up against Weiss’ pillow that smelled faintly of her sister.

‘Gross.’ 

Weiss smiled encouragingly at her partner and stepped closer to her, “How about I help you brush your hair?”

Ruby sniffled and nodded, not yet ready to properly engage with her closest friend and confidant like an adult might, and Weiss looked happy to match whatever pace Ruby wanted to set before she opened up a little. 

Ruby swivelled on Weiss’ bed until her legs hung over the edge and stepped off of it, Weiss leading her over to her personal ivory vanity and pulled back the chair chivalrously for the brunette to sit on before wheeling her into place. Weiss took out a light-blue hairbrush, encrusted with sparkling diamonds, and held it in one hand whilst she ran a few tresses of Ruby’s crimson-dyed tinges through her fingertips and hummed and cooed over them.

“Your hair really is pretty, Ruby. Shame you don’t do more with it.” Ruby rolled her eyes at the backhanded compliment: she knew Weiss meant well. Weiss lips pursed and her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, like she was on the edge of asking something before she began brushing Ruby’s messy hair into place.

“Something on your mind?” Ruby asked, speaking for the first time directly to her friend. 

“I, umm…” Weiss bit down on her lip, halting her sentence before taking a moment to pause; closing her eyes as she did so. “Yang told me Summer, your Mother, had hair just like yours. I’ve never seen you dye it. Is it hereditary? I’ve never seen dark brown hair mixed with red before.” Weiss explained.

Ruby couldn’t help feel a twinge of sadness at hearing her Mother’s name, but was undeterred in addressing the issue. She understood Weiss’ hesitation now; her Mother was usually an unspoken topic and she generally liked to keep it that way.

“White hair isn’t exactly normal either, Weiss.”

“Touché.” Weiss retorted. “You still didn’t answer my question, though.”

Ruby shrugged. “I think? I don’t dye it though, you are right. I’ve really only seen pictures of Mum though, and I’ve never met my grandparents so I have no clue if it goes back further than her. Maybe we’re just special?” Ruby chuckled and Weiss reciprocated. 

“No arguments here, Ruby, you are a rare find indeed.” Weiss continued her ministrations of Ruby hair and scalp; affectionately massaging the younger girl’s scalp with her fingers whenever she was brushing towards the end of Ruby’s tresses of crimson. Ruby appeared to enjoy it, humming and purring her encouragement for Weiss to continue. 

Truth be told, this was something Weiss had been doing for Yang in their morning routines occasionally. Yang’s hair was a wildfire of knots interloping, bending and curling in a plethora of ways that wasn’t exactly unclean or without its charms, but Weiss was curious to see just what her lover looked like with straighter and more well-organised hair like herself. The massage was simply for Weiss’ own benefit and joy despite not being the receiver, hearing Yang’s soft and quiet moans of pleasure and relaxation was a boon to the Heiress’ confidence. The fact that Ruby’s disquiet and tension washed away with a gentle crack of her neck and a pleased sigh indicated the exercise was proving an effective means to brighten the usually cheery girl up somewhat.

With this in mind, Weiss decided to pry: Just a little bit. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Weiss asked, brushing the back of Ruby’s head, eyes flickering into the vanity’s mirror to see the reaction written on Ruby’s face. Her eyes were locked onto Weiss’ through the mirror, and Weiss’ darted away nervously. Ruby wasn’t that naïve, and Weiss wasn’t so well versed in social discourse to easily pry into people’s concerns as she thought she was.

“Blake hasn’t talked to me once since we got back…” Ruby said earnestly, though the drop in her tone obviously conveyed she was none too happy about it. The brunette traced her own lips, and her shoulders dropped. “It’s back to the way it was when we first met. I’m too scared to bring anything up and she’s clearly happy to leave the conversation unspoken.”

“You don’t know that, Ruby. Blake’s probably just as nervous as you are if what you’ve said is true.” Weiss responded, trying to sound as level as possible like some diplomat between warring states.

“She told me she couldn’t love anyone like Adam, Weiss. That’s a pretty big deal breaker.” Ruby sagged, sighing. 

“Then why did she kiss you?” Weiss asked.

“I wish she would tell me. It’s just cruel.” Ruby’s good fist balled over her lap into a fist. “For a moment I thought she might…like me back. Guess not.”

Weiss grimaced, and Ruby noticed it in the mirror, but Weiss didn’t really care much for that. She didn’t like seeing Ruby this down, and that was probably the real reason why she had refused to go to class and laboured around in bed most days. Seeing and interacting too much with Blake was far too difficult for Ruby. Weiss wished she could do something, but she really was powerless. She couldn’t make Blake raise the issue, and Ruby refused, and it could easily become a volatile scenario if not handled correctly. 

Weiss couldn’t think of anything else to say. She could offer kind and encouraging words, but Ruby was stuck in a rut and refused to move. Much like her older sister, she was surprisingly set in her ways. When she was sad, she was sad, and she wouldn’t do much about it. Perhaps that wasn’t fair, maybe it just seemed like there was nothing she could do and had prematurely given up to save herself the effort. Regardless, Weiss was left concerned but otherwise resigned herself. It really was up to Ruby and Blake to move things forwards for themselves.

“I know she cares a great deal for you, Ruby. She was weeping and crying and couldn’t focus on fighting after you got hurt. She probably just feels…guilty.” Weiss finished patting Ruby’s hair down and smiled at the beautiful metamorphoses she had created. “There, stunning, if I do say so myself.”

Ruby looked like she was about to say something, when the door to their room clicked and swung open: Yang and Blake stood in the doorway in their regular clothing.

“We ready for sparring yet?” Yang inquired, flashing Ruby a smile before leaning in to capture Weiss in a swift and chaste kiss, embarrassing her partner in the process.  
Weiss scowled and looked away, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Dolt! Not so openly, what have I told you?” She shook her head and let the issue pass, not wanting to make an argument over something she admittedly enjoyed. Spontaneity was certainly one of Yang’s attractive personality traits. “I just finished Ruby’s hair, she’ll need some help getting changed. I assumed that was your job, being her sister and all?”

Yang shrugged.

“We’re all girls, nobody’s gonna blow a blood vessel out their nose at seeing Ruby’s girls.” Yang said, nonchalantly nudging Blake’s hips with her own. The Faunus ignored it, staying as statuesque as possible. “Blake can manage. We should head down and tell Glynda that Rubes and Blakey will be a little latey.” The blonde rhymed, insulting Weiss' affection for proper lexicon.

“Why us? And what do you mean by late? We still have forty minutes before class?” Weiss quirked an eyebrow.

But by this point Yang had already outflanked Weiss, hands on her girlfriend’s back and already ushering her out of the room suspiciously; flatly ignoring any protests the Heiress was sending her way; deftly leaning back into the room to pick up Myrtenaster and tossing it to it’s wielder. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger~” Yang smirked, giving Blake a wink and a goodbye wave to Ruby before closing the door on the two of them, Weiss’ indignant protests filtered through the door, albeit muffled.

Ruby was quizzical, looking up at Blake with sincere confusion that wasn’t overshadowed by her own unhappiness or unease with Blake’s presence.

“What was that about?” Ruby asked. Blake didn’t immediately respond, and Ruby initially thought that they had regressed to the point where Blake was literally never going to say another word to her again, before she leaned the back of her thighs against the vanity next to Ruby and sat there. The Faunus stared down at the brunette with an expression Ruby hadn’t quite seen before written across her face. If Ruby was honest, she could say that about most expressions, since Blake was so usually deadpan. But now she looked intense, narrowed eyes and set jaw with a quiver in her lips to suggest anxiety. 

But what could she be anxious about?

“We need to talk. Come to my bed?” Was all Blake offered, and Ruby’s eyes darted to and thro, before she nodded.

“S-Sure.” She stammered, standing up and walking to sit with Blake on the edge of the latter’s bottom bunk. It smelled like her, Ruby noticed and blushed as she realized just how used to, and obsessed with, she was with Blake’s scent of lavender. 

Blake crossed one leg over the over, arms crossed over her chest with her eyes planted firmly on the ground; still as intense as before, unrelentingly so. Her ears flickered under her bow in a way Ruby had come to associate with concern. But concern over what?

‘Please just let me in for once, Blake. Tell me what’s wrong?’

Blake sighed, running an austere hand through her hair and blinked her eyes shut for a few seconds of quiet contemplation before turning to Ruby, head half-tilt as she finished with her hand in her hair.

“I’ve been thinking the last few days since we got back just what I wanted to say and how to say it. But nothing seems satisfactory. Nothing works out like it does in my head.” Blake cryptically explained, and Ruby tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy; and for once Blake smiled.

“W-What do you mean?” Ruby responded.

“I think it’s best if we just continued where we left off at the club.” Blake said coolly to the smaller of the two of them, her eyes shining in their beautiful amber glow, and Ruby’s heart skipped a beat.

“O-Oh right, you were saying about how you couldn’t love anyone like you did with Adam-” Ruby started, hand erratically playing with her hair as she tried to pull off a smile that just came off as unnatural and unhinged. She couldn’t bear to look at Blake in the eyes, it was surely a rejection. That’s all it could be. But at least she would finally be put out of her misery. 

Suddenly, without any warning, Blake’s hands clutched Ruby’s cheeks and tugged her up towards Blake’s face; lips meeting unexpectantly. Ruby’s silver eyes exploded outwards; widening as she felt Blake’s soft and pale lips press pleasantly against her own, sparks of pleasure running down her face and extremities before finally pooling in the pit of her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat, then a second, and then settled into speeding rhythm. Ruby eased into it, pressing back against Blake’s lips and moaned quietly into the Faunus’ mouth as the hint of Blake’s tongue teased across her top set of teeth. Ruby could feel herself unravelling and Blake didn’t even have to try. That’s just how smitten she was with the kitten. 

It was euphoric, like a dance in a moonlit field surrounded by a menagerie of multicoloured flowers. It was pure bliss; plain and beautifully simple. 

Ruby finally felt their lips part after half a minute of kissing, her lungs aching for breath as she panted inelegantly for the oxygen she so desperately needed. Blake appeared to be in better condition, breathing harder than before but managing to keep her posture about her. It probably had to do with the lack of surprise on her part. 

“B-Blake…?” Ruby stammered out, eyes of the two girls reflecting perfectly between each-other like liquid fire and metal.

“You made an assumption.” Blake responded, it was a little cold, but it was also playful as she smirked towards Ruby.

“H-Huh?”

“When I said I couldn’t love anyone like Adam I was telling the truth. I can’t. I can’t because nothing is equivocal to your first love. Nothing.” There was that coldness again, but Blake relented. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you, or love you more than him. You understand, don’t you? Your first love is this overwhelming feeling you can never quite let go of. It can crush you, and change you, and dominate you. It lasts with you forever because it’s the first time you ever feel anything like that, so of course it leaves an impression and sticks with you. But that doesn’t mean it’s the best love. There are better feelings, and better people out there…” Blake leaned back in, kissing Ruby again, but this time without so much surprise on the smaller girl’s part; this time she reciprocated without hesitation. It didn’t last nearly as long, but to Ruby it was just as magical. “You understand now, right? If you had of told me from the beginning…” Blake squeezed Ruby’s hand, unshed tears glistening in that liquid fire and metal. “I would have gladly said yes.”

Ruby’s jaw went slack, eyes wide, tears streaming like a waterfall. She couldn’t help breaking down, sobbing vociferously, leaning against Blake’s shoulder, arms wrapping around the brunette’s back as Blake offered soothing words; rocking Ruby gently in her arms as she let it all out. All those pent up and painful feelings finally laid bare for the world to see. She was feeling a lot in that moment: Embarrassment, self-doubt, self-hatred, disappointment in herself, relief at Blake’s admission, fear it was an illusion ready to shatter like a mirror, disbelief at how all of this was her fault for not being brave or smart enough to realize what Blake had been saying all along. But most of all, she felt happiness. 

Happiness that Blake liked her back.

“I-I-I’m so s-s-sorry, Blake…” Ruby sniffled and hiccupped her way through her sentence to the point where it didn’t really sound like English anymore.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Ruby. I’m sorry for letting it get to this point.” Blake shushed Ruby, rocking her gently from side to side to quell the overwhelming sadness pouring out of Ruby.

Ruby finally picked herself up off of Blake’s shoulder, wiping her tears away with her sleeve until she felt moderately presentable to look up at the Raven-haired Faunus, feeling every muscle quake with nervous energy and excitement.

“T-That’s three…” Ruby said, staring Blake in the eye.

“What is?”

“You’ve kissed me three times. I haven’t kissed you once.” Ruby said, a sheepish smile on her face and the redness in her cheeks started to resemble a blush rather than from her crying. 

“Would you like to remedy that?” Blake smiled, her dry whit seemed so sexy and appealing in that moment, not that it ever hadn’t to Ruby; it was just more prominent now.

“Y-Yes. P-Please can I kiss you, Blake?” Ruby asked, and Blake nodded slowly as if she was tortuously drawing out Ruby’s suffering.

Ruby practically thrust herself on top of Blake, knocking the taller girl over as their lips smashed together, contorting naturally to each-other’s shape whilst their breasts pressed tight to each-other, and Ruby could feel every shiver in her partner’s body, every hitch of breath, and every bristle of Blake’s nipples. She felt like she was riding a wave of pure ecstasy; cloud-high and surfing a Jetstream of pleasure. Ruby could feel her lips bruising from how hard and heavy they were making out, but it was inconsequential. Any pain was welcome with this much pleasure, and the soft kneading sensation of Blake’s hands exploring every curve of Ruby’s body before settling on her ass was heavenly.

Precisely like a professional diver, however, Ruby had to come up for air. She gasped, rising regretfully off and away from Blake, the faintest and thinnest trails of saliva linking the two of them together until Blake, hungrily and erotically, licked her lips. Blake’s hand left Ruby’s posterior to run fingers through her freshly made hair, Blake drinking in the sight of her leader and undressing her with her fiery orbs of amber light. 

“Ruby…” Blake breathed out against Ruby’s neck, lips ghosting across it after she sat up. Her left hand slid up and down Ruby’s waist, tapping it one finger at a time like falling dominoes in a slow rhythm. 

“Yes…” Ruby gasped out, wanting so desperately to grind on Blake’s leg and reach the orgasmic heights her body was screaming for her to achieve. 

“You’re amazing. You’re the most genuine and honest person I’ve ever met. Don’t keep doubting yourself. The parts of you I love are the ones that never relent or hide away. Please always be the girl I fell in love with.”

Ruby would be naïve, more so than she was, perhaps even stupid to not understand what emotion; foundation; and intent Blake had laced her words with. It was in response to her affections for Adam. Whether or not he had ever been the chivalrous warrior and philosopher Blake had presumed him to be was unimportant; it was the fact that image was shattered and had been bent out of shape over time. Adam had changed and Blake didn’t want to lose this image of Ruby she had. She never wanted to see someone she was placing so much hope with such high stakes involved become a perverted vestige of who they used to be. She was both warning and pleading with Ruby to never change, because Blake wouldn’t have been able to survive another person she had fallen for betray her like that. Ruby, of course, had only the intent to be who she was and nothing else for Blake. That’s all she really needed to do.

“I promise.” Ruby whispered into Blake’s top set of ears, feeling them twitch from her warm breath. “But you have to stop running and hiding. If you need someone, I’m here. I’m your leader. Your friend. Your…” Ruby felt her throat close around the word, trying to strangle the life out of it to save herself the embarrassment and pain of it being rejected. But much as her body tried to stop her, her heart and will proved the victor. “Girlfriend.”

Blake’s ears prickled and flickered at the word, standing at attention and Ruby couldn’t help but find it infinitely endearing to see. It was so adorable, she just had to plant a kiss on them. However, she stopped herself after leaning in, thinking it could be unsettling and even inappropriate to treat them without consideration just how personal a Faunus’ animalistic qualities were. No doubt they hated to have them be played with like children’s toys. Instead, Ruby just cleared her throat and kissed the top of Blake’s head.

“I’m doing my best to be a good leader for all of us. If something scares you, please tell me. I hate seeing you afraid. Hiding by yourself. You don’t have to face the world on your own. I’m here for you now, and forever.” Ruby proclaimed proudly, nuzzling the top of Blake’s head as the Faunus did the same to Ruby’s clavicle. 

Blake sighed, offering Ruby the smallest of kisses across her collar bone and nuzzled her back. “Thank you, Ruby. I promise I’m done running. From now on, I’m standing my ground and never giving up what I love.” Blake reared back, liquid fire and metal staring straight into each-other once more. “Who I love.” 

This time the kiss wasn’t Blake kissing Ruby by surprise, or Ruby kissing Blake by request; this time it was an unspoken agreement: a kiss shared by the two of them. For a moment the world faded away and they were left alone.

Only Ruby and Blake. Only their kiss. Only their confusing and awkward love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always, I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Aren't I just the best for giving you a third chapter in a week? It's almost like I'm not procrastinating. But that can't be true.
> 
> So it finally, finally, after 31 chapters, a bunch of angst, a lot of blood sweat and tears; Ruby and Blake are finally together at last. I think it's poignant that Blake is the one to address it first even with Ruby's initial confession, since it shows how she isn't running. Of course, she delayed it, implied to have doubted if it was a good thing or not, but ultimately she didn't run or ignore how she felt. That's some solid growth for her.
> 
> Not really much to over-analyse, it was a one chapter topic aimed at Ladybug finally happening. Ruby's injury has been hampering her, making her more miserable than she would have been, only to be surprised by Blake. Let's be honest, she wouldn't have seen it coming even if Blake was obvious about it. Some may argue she was since Ruby proclaimed Blake was avoiding her and assume this was because she was trying to figure out how best to express herself and in a way that is being obvious about it. But Ruby's young, impressionable, and a little naive. Regardless, that big hurdle of their's has been cleared. It surely won't be the only one, they both have baggage and problems, Blake's past with Adam and her personality faults and Ruby with her lack of experience, but those are problems for another day. They can be happy and comfortable for now.
> 
> Oh and sorry for cutting off Ruby and Blake's hot and steamy make out session. It would have come off as Blake taking advantage of Ruby with how unstable she was at being confessed to, especially with Ruby's inexperience, so I cut it off at that point. That would have seemed out of character and something Blake would accused Adam of, so I had to stop it. A little patience will have to be exercised before they reach the sexual act.


	32. Old Habits Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viridian ventures out into the City of Vale to asses if she is still the Psychotic killer she once was.

**_7 hours earlier..._ **

When weighing up the collective injuries sustained within team SLVR, Viridian by far got off the lightest. Some routine stomach pain from torn abdominal muscles was nothing she wasn’t used to, torn tendons and ligaments, displacements, hairline and stress fractures were regular injuries Viridian suffered on an almost daily basis from her time as her dysfunctional team and family’s frontline enforcer. All things considered, even with some mild discomfort and bending and stretching her torso in any direction for any minor everyday activity, Viridian considered she should be both grateful and relieve that she wasn’t as wounded or worn down as her other three teammates. Although, the scar tissue she had no doubt gained weighed upon her somewhat, it wasn’t new, but trauma had a way of building up even if one hadn’t survived it and could leave the afflicted less durable than before. Still, it would heal with time as everything would and that was doubly true for a Maiden. Really, it would just prove a bewildering statistic that left doctors and scientists bereft of answers, rich with questions for how this petite and lithe girl hadn’t collapsed and died on the spot. It proved an amusing experience if nothing else. 

As for the rest of Team SLVR:

Silver tore the MCL in his right knee when collapsing on it after his fight with Emerald, he had lost between two and three pints of blood from his various injuries (most notably from his hand being crushed by Lucian), was littered in cuts and lacerations around his arms and abdomen, internal bleeding was reported but quickly treated by the healing factor of his aura. On top of that was a reported concussion with resulting vertigo that had kept him bed ridden, much to his own chagrin, but the doctor’s orders stood and he was certainly never one to deviate from an order, so long as it came from a person he respected. Physicians had that effect. 

Red was somewhat lucky, no scars to speak of sans the already present one carefully and considerately concealed under her fringe, one she had gained in a scuffle with a victim of her days with Silver as street urchins who mugged anyone for anything that could be sold or exchanged for food to keep them alive. 

She hated the blemish, regularly applying as much foundation and concealer as she could to the wound in an attempt to prevent prying eyes from looking at it. It was a small thing, miniscule, beginning in the centre of her hairline and curved off to the side, stopping shy of the right-hand side of the centre of her forehead. One could hardly think of it as ugly or hideous, a small pink streak of flesh standing out from the smooth skin around it, and yet Red treated it with contempt. It limited the styles in which she could wear her hair and correspondingly: her outfit, the two went hand in hand, or so Red had claimed, Viridian was never as fashion-obsessed as her sister, she was rather uneducated and indifferent to the subject matter; leaving any wardrobe acquisitions to Red since she was considerably passionate to a fault: Always stating a woman had to look her best. Viridian never understood it, but she loved Red too much to ever really deny her. Besides, Red was always happiest shopping for new outfits that would, eventually, just be ripped off from her body. Sometimes Viridian deliberated over whether that was hypocritical, but it was probably the overarching goal in Red’s mind. Like the Fox-Faunus always said: “There is an outfit for every occasion, and an objective in mind when choosing it.” Again, she wasn’t privy to exactly what Red was trying to get at, but it made sense. Somewhat.

Regardless, Red had suffered a hairline fracture to the left-hand side of the jawline, some bruised ribs and scraped knees and forearms; nothing particularly debilitating, but injuries that required healing all the same. The worst of it was the hairline fracture, making it painful for Red to open her mouth wide without a biting pain in the side of her face. She had uttered many expletives once the adrenaline had worn off and the pain became apparently clear.

Without a doubt though, Linen had been dealt the worst hand of all by fate: Broken nose, all but three ribs broken, lacerations to the neck, arms, legs, head and face, stress fractures across his metatarsal and from the elbow of his right arm down to the underside of his hand. Internal bleeding, a torn bicep, broken collarbone and swelling on his hip, and the list just kept on going. He’d make a full recovery, there was to be no worry there; expert physicians had done their very best in piecing him together and his aura was doing wonders, but it wasn’t some miracle healing factor. He’d be on the shelf for weeks, if not a couple of months before he’d be totally mobile and capable of sparring and going out on missions. This was probably some small comfort for Linen, he was never the most reliable when in the field if an engagement were to take place, and he preferred to bury his face in a book and learn some trivial historical fact to quiz Silver and Red on the next day. Confined to his bed, bandaged and recuperating, meant he was gifted with plenty of time to study and widen the scope of his knowledge. That was slightly daunting for Viridian, Linen had access to a stable internet connection and the whole library of archived literature that Beacon had on records with nothing to interrupt him. By the time he would be done, she doubted whether anything could stop him from becoming omniscient. That was ever so slightly unnerving. 

As for Viridian? She was uninhibited unlike her family. They were healing, some closer to fitness than others, but moving about and exploring the city of Vale was not on their list of priorities. In the dead of night, she rose from her bed, shuffling out from besides Silver, planting a soft and lingering kiss atop his forehead and changed into her original attire from before arriving at Beacon: White frilly Dress shirt, Sea-foam Green mantle and Cowl, her silver-metal bracers slid over her arms, black leather trousers and laced up shin-high boots. She gave a rueful glance back towards her siblings. There was something she needed to do, damn the consequences, but she couldn’t stop the guilt floating just beneath the surface of her chest at abandoning them all to go off and sate her inhuman, psychotic cravings. Guilt wasn’t new to her, not when it came to team SLVR, but just how prominent it was amongst her thoughts along with the strangling-intensity it carried was unsettling for her. It was stronger than ever before and that just didn’t sit right with her. She needed to test herself.

She needed to kill again and see just how human Ozpin had made her.

Old habits die hard, as they say.

 

As much hubris and pride Vale’s politicians and, celebrities and common folk took in the city’s culture, history, liberal values and economic might: The metropolis was far from perfect.

People may not like to talk about it, even considered it taboo in the social circles of the patriotic and blind, but the city was cesspool of criminal activity when the sun set. The Kingdom always had a gang culture, violent crimes like homicides and arson were rare, but that didn’t stop the frequency of people like Roman Torchwick and those of his ilk from stepping on the toes of shop owners and ransacking their establishments of their wares and then redistributing them on black markets. The drug trafficking alone was a nightmare that had the authorities stretched thin as it was. And when the sun set, and all the decent people had locked their doors, that’s when the real shady activities went down. If you just so happened to be a young woman, in a dark alley on the wrong side of the tracks, you likely weren’t coming home. At least, not as the same person you left home as. 

And that was exactly what Viridian was banking on. She could have gotten into major trouble if she killed someone the police considered undeserving and innocent. But a girl killing their would-be rapist? Well, that would just be self-defence, wouldn’t it? Nobody would ask questions. Nobody would care. But most importantly, Viridian could test just how different she was now to before she had walked through Beacon’s esteemed halls. Exciting pounded in her chest, bubbling in her wrists veins and thumped in her ears. If the fantasy was enough to go by, she would still be the same old broken Viridian Aurora. She wouldn’t be plagued by the same recurring question as to who she was. She wouldn’t have to face the existential fear at questioning what she had done, and why she had done it. She could be the braindead psychopath. So, what if Ozpin wanted some Guardian? Fine. He could have that; a Guardian was just some fancy title people gave to someone who killed anyone who trespassed on their property. They just rationalised it as a good thing since it benefitted them. Murder was seldom accepted apart from when it carried rewards and acted as a boon to the many. That was how wars started, after all, Viridian just wasn’t afraid to discard the rationalisation. 

Or so she thought. That whole diatribe of her thoughts was just another form of rationalisation, one she was acutely aware of. 

Regardless, Viridian found herself located on the edge of an alleyway, feet away from the public sidewalks that flanked either side of the road, running along a line of shops and vertically built apartment buildings. According to Linen this was to reduce cost, building upwards meant that you didn’t have to buy as much land for the number of rooms and levels you wanted since apparently land was astronomically expensive. Viridian didn’t much care for the factoid, but sometimes listening to Linen just ramble on about interesting (interesting used loosely in Viridian’s understanding of the word) titbit of information was oddly calming and relaxing. He also loved to try and expand her horizons, and to his credit, some of his random facts stuck better in her head than most things would; he would to be praised for that at least. 

Viridian heard the sound of a bird crying out, or “singing” as it was commonly referred to as; Viridian certainly didn’t consider it to be any beautiful melody in any case. It sounded like a crow. It seemed odd, Viridian didn’t know much about Ornithology, but she was sure she never heard Linen mention that type of bird in his ecological rants. Then again, that didn’t necessarily mean it couldn’t be present in a city. She drew it up as somebody’s lost pet and paid it no mind. It shut up soon after, anyway.

Viridian tapped her foot against the concrete base of the wall she leaned against, running her teeth along her lip in morbid anticipation. She considered what best method to carry out her execution should be. Evisceration was a favourite method, if done correctly the victim could live long enough to “appreciate” the sight of their own intestinal tract falling out from their wound, although Viridian had made that particular form of murder overplayed. That could be claimed about most of her methods, but this one disproportionately so. Strangulation was also a nice choice, but if she was caught in the act it was a far more difficult one to explain and invited suspicions. Impalement was fun, if slightly dangerous as it allowed the victim a confined space that could easily be exploited to Viridian’s detriment. 

She let out a shuddered and excited breath, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention as the excitement began to take grip of her. Just thinking about killing a person was enough to reduce her to a quivering mess of anticipation and exhilaration.

Viridian was broken from her psychotic machinations by a sudden scream, girlish and high-pitched, wailing from the other side of the street before it was just as abruptly silenced. The Maiden’s head snapped to attention, and she stood off from her support, eyes glaring into the dimly lit street ahead of her, scanning methodically for any signs or indicators of the source of the scream. It sounded close, ominously close. Viridian was hardly the type to leap into action to save a person, much the opposite, she was the person _you_ needed saving _from_. All the same, something was nagging her. This feeling in the back of her mind that she couldn’t get rid of, like a rash that no matter how much you scratched it kept irritating and itching until you left it bloody and raw. For some reason, whatever reason, she felt the need to investigate and help whomever was in danger, if she could, but she didn’t know why.

Truthfully, she did know the reason, she merely didn’t like admitting it. It was Ozpin. Whatever transcendental powers he claimed to have, he really was reworking her very instincts. As he said, she was still sadistic and psychotic evidenced by her malicious and bloody thoughts, but there was a definite change in her personality and idiosyncratic thoughts. It was discomforting to know he was worming around inside of her, changing her piece by piece, and yet in a contradictory and juxtaposing way it felt relieving. She felt more in control than ever. 

Viridian looked down to her right hand, marred by the scar from her childhood the day her Mother died, and balled it into a tight fist. Her fractured mind brought her here to kill, to test herself, and usually nothing would deter her. She would be a passenger to her bloodthirst, but now she was something else altogether. She wasn’t the operator of her vessel, but she had some sway over what to do. It carried a heavy weight and burden, causing her chest to palpitate as panic set about her. Choice and freedom from her thoughts was confusing and new. Either it was the voices within her splintered conscience or Silver telling her what to do, but now it was her. All her. Barely a whisper from the cacophony of chaos residing within her.

“What…am I going to do?” Viridian asked, slowing her breathing, remembering there would be much more difficult challenges to face along the road to redemption and recovery, making choices was simply something she would have to grow accustom to.

Redemption. Not something she ever thought she would be capable of. Now she didn’t know.

“What… _should_ I do?” Viridian asked, before she almost reflexively shook her head. “What would Silver do? Yeah, that’s smart. Silver’s a hero. My hero. He always does the best things. Do what Silver would do…and Silver would…save the innocent!” Viridian smiled to no-one in particular, prouder of herself for actually making a choice than anything. 

Viridian zipped and jogged over from one side of the street to the other, a light and feathery grace to her footwork suggestive of her Maiden’s powers making her as weightless as air, feet floating above the cold asphalt below her. Even with the knowledge of dark and despicable acts being performed within earshot of herself, Viridian’s somewhat childlike shard of personality was still an overpowering aspect that surfaced regularly. Irreputable acts never gave Viridian cause for concern, nor did she think much of them at all. She was more than comfortable around them, being a purveyor of them for much of her adult life. Despite the fact the presence of them motivated her to act, it didn’t prevent her from handling it with a carefree disposition. 

Viridian slammed her back against the wall flanking the alleyway she assumed the noise came from, she cursed the fact the shriek she heard was so abruptly curtailed by whatever means or method had been used, as she was essentially flailing around in the dark to nobody’s amusement. Maybe a cruel ever observant god, but strictly speaking she couldn’t prove that. 

“What would Silver say this is? Winging it?” Viridian asked herself, inching towards the edge of the concrete wall she had plastered herself to, tension building in her extremities as her fingers wrapped against the concrete and her toes curled and uncurled within her leather boots. The only source of tension consuming her was in regards to her lack of insight and knowledge of what exactly she was walking into. If she was to play the part of a Huntress and not some psychotic killer for once, despite her initial intent in coming here, she would have to be at the least somewhat prepared. Some form of game plan had to be devised otherwise she could do more harm than good. It was fine calling down a lightning storm or indiscriminating hellfire when you didn’t have to worry about collateral damage, but there was an innocent life in play. Viridian hoped inwardly for as few people as possible to be awaiting her, but she didn’t necessarily mind it the other way around either. It just meant, should all go well, there was more bloodletting to be had. 

Viridian peered around the corner, finally able to scan the surroundings of the alleyway with moderate clarity for the first time, being limited by the lack of luminescence surrounding it. It was the picture-perfect example of a seedy alleyway one would expect criminals to congregate within, if they were stupid stereotypes of course.

Still, it was narrow confines like these limited evasion considerably. The perfect place to knife a person and take everything worth a damn on their body. Silver had taught Viridian that shortly after they had met in Vaccuo. It proved a necessary evil to feed themselves. Nobody cared for small and hungry children, not when you were poor and hungry yourself.

It was then that as Viridian looked deeper within, she made out the object of her interest. Better yet, the _objects_ of her interest: A muscular man dressed in dark colours, hoodie drawn over his head to mask his features but failing to do so with any reasonable success due to its tightness; even Viridian knew one required a hood a size or two bigger than your own to properly cover oneself. If Viridian’s own instincts didn’t prove convincing enough, her lifetime on the streets and as a criminal informed her through experience that this man was a small-time crook or a first-time offender. In front of him, pinned to a wall with a gun to her chin was a small girl. No more than fifteen or sixteen in age, the hem of her off-the-shoulder-shirt was torn by the side, and the collar line was pulled down significantly to expose most of her chest. Tears stained her face and the man’s hand was clasped tight to her mouth, small tufts of air and muffled moans escaped her nose and mouth respectively as he continued invading her personal space. 

Whilst Viridian had come looking for the type of person to commit such a disgusting crime, she would have preferred someone attempt it on her rather than an innocent girl suffer in such a way. In another time where she could be more analytical and thoughtful, the Summer Maiden may have been perturbed with how altruistic she was acting, but now wasn’t the time or the place. Instead, not willing to waste time, Viridian stepped into the alleyway, allowing her footsteps to fall heavily upon the ground to intentionally alert the criminal. As intended, his head turned on a swivel, to see the Raven and blonde-haired Maiden stood fifteen feet apart from him.

“Let her go. Now.” Viridian ordered, eyes impassive apart from her natural distaste and dangerous intent that flared to life when she transitioned into her more combative personality. 

“A Huntress?!” He exclaimed wildly, eyes widening as the hand holding his gun to his victim began to tremble wildly. “Oh no, fuck, no, no, no! FUCK!” He said in a panic. 

“I’m not a Huntress.” Viridian said, voice cold as ice. “But if you don’t let her go, you’re gonna wish I was.” Despite her threatening tone, there seemed to be a relaxation that overcame the gunman, shoulders sagging at her admission. Perhaps Viridian should have kept up the ruse regarding her occupation. It technically wouldn’t have been a lie. She wasn’t well versed in the negotiating aspect of dealing with criminals, rhetoric in her previous occupation was seldom required of her. 

“Well, if that’s the case…” The gunman said, raising his pistol to aim towards Viridian, the girl underneath him flinching in fear as he did so. “Then I have no reason not to frag you! I’ll just let the cops find your corpse!” He proclaimed, cockily, and squeezed his trigger in a series of quick shots; none of which demonstrated he had a stable or strong grip on his weapon as the recoil practically made his elbow bend to a ninety-degree angle.

Viridian felt herself smile in amusement, it was funny how pedestrian his aiming was. Nothing was clinical or skilled whatsoever. Viridian had trained with perhaps the best gunslinger in all of Remnant in the form of her sister, Red Herring, and she had taught Viridian every trick in the book when it came to weapons fire. 

_‘Judge the eyeline. Where he looks, is where he will shoot. If you predict correctly, you can dodge or even deflect his bullets. Gotta be quick on your feet though, only try if it’s semi-auto. You’ll just be riddled if it’s full-auto. And truth be told, I really don’t wanna be the only girl on the team. Keep yourself safe, all-right? Big sis’ orders.’_

A warmth spread inside Viridian as she recalled Red’s words, early into their training. She was seldom rewarded with memories she could recall accurately due to the lack of clarity inherent with her illnesses, but those words of Red always had strangely stuck with her. She liked her talks and moments of sisterhood with Red, the girl always treated Viridian like a human more than anyone else. She didn’t fear what she was or what she could do, which Viridian had to reluctantly admit that even Silver did show that concern around her. Not that she couldn’t understand it, if she could both forgive and understand why anyone had to be like that, it was her lover, he bore the brunt of her success and failures more than anyone; but the kindness and lack of concern that came from Red was a breath of fresh air to the Maiden. Sometimes, when alone with Red, she felt like a normal girl.

Ripping herself from her musing, Viridian followed the eyeline of her aggressor, arcing her arm around and bringing her forearm in line with both her shoulder and neckline as well as the flightpath of the first bullet, her metal bracer deflecting the bullet harmlessly. In fluid motion, she brought across her other arm diagonally across her face to shield it, perfectly deflecting the bullet too, before standing still as a mountain: Third bullet sailing past and over her right shoulder as it failed to pose any sort of threat to her wellbeing. She offered the assailant a telling smile, and from his confused and terrified gaping expression, he knew exactly what he had done. 

He fucked up.

Viridian flashed forwards, her image flickering and lagging behind her as a powerful gust of wind shout outwards alongside her; the criminal shielding his eyes with his forearm from the powerful gusts and whatever debris it pulled along with it. Viridian flickered back into view, her image finally catching up with herself, a manic and fractured smile pulled across her face like a deranged Harlequin, tucked and knelt to the gunman’s chest. She shot her hand outwards, taking advantage of the wind’s distraction, and dug her nails into his bicep. In a swift display of her augmented strength, amethyst embers dancing and sparking around her eyes, Viridian hurled her adversary through the air as if he were a tennis ball; his weight proving no obstacle in displacing him, and he collided sickeningly with the brick wall opposite where he had been stood. Cracks shot out violently, shards and chunks of concrete littered down around him as he slumped down onto his posterior, coughing out mouthfuls of blood from the numerous broken ribs that were now constricting his lungs. 

Viridian calmly stepped forwards, only taking two strides of her modest height to reach her assailant, holding up a solitaire hand for glimmering green light to shatter into a ceremonial jewel encrusted blade to land in her hand, her wrist loosely swaying back and forth in a remarkable display of aloofness; almost as if she were acting like a metronome with either pole deciding what his fate should be. 

For anyone else, this would be repulsive and unthinkable, for Viridian; this was just another victim. 

“No! No please! Don’t k-kill me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please show me mercy!” 

Viridian felt her cold detachment shatter, her vapid, lifeless, hooded eyes twitched back into consciousness; the auto-pilot she had been on surprisingly turned off from his simple pleas, pleas she had hear many times before and yet never halted the her task at hand. She could feel the gentle rhythm of her breath became undone. It was like the breath had been forced out of her and now she was drowning, desperately clawing for air and security. The blade in her hand jittered, as if she were an unconvincing novice when holding one, feeling the weight of the world in a weapon that could steal life rather than a tool use to create her art. She felt foreign and strange in her own body, as if this were the first time she had ever been woken up and every decision up till now had been another’s. Her blade shattered, her semblance unable to maintain itself because of the limited concentration she had to maintain it.

Is this what it really was to be schizophrenic? To suffer from Dissociative identity disorder? Was it really her that had been so determined to stake her knife through this man’s heart like that of Van Helsing towards Dracula? Was she so broken before she couldn’t tell where the murderous side of her began and she ended? Was there ever a difference before?

Viridian was at a crossroads, an existential crisis. She had been questioning who or what she was ever since Ozpin had told her he was “fixing” her but now she was more confused than ever. Did she want to kill this man, or did another part of her want that? Who was who? Maybe this merciful, thoughtful, quizzical part of her was the fake, and she was standing in the way of the real Viridian from doing what she was meant to do.

Why in the Hell did she even come here anyway?

Sensing her trepidation and bewilderment, the kneeling criminal saw his opportunity. He was still at her mercy, and he couldn’t afford to hedge his bets on whether or not she would be virtuous enough to let him live. If not for her, he would have committed a disgusting crime, and she had already claimed she wasn’t a Huntress; actual vigilantes were inconsistent in their interpretations of what justice was, so it was safe to say killing her would be the only answer that would result in his survival. He flicked out a Military Combat knife from under the belt of his jeans and thrust it up at Viridian’s jugular. 

The Maiden apprehended his assault in time however, her instincts firing up quicker than the criminal could stab at her, and she ducked and weaved to the side, kicking at the underside of his hand that was holding the knife and sent it up into the air just out his reach; stopping straight ahead of Viridian’s own eyeline. Reflexively, she swatted the knife out of the air and clasped it into her palm, driving it straight through the Adam’s apple of her would-be killer. 

Viridian gasped, realising finally what she had done, hand still attached to the hilt of the blade; none of which wasn’t buried inside the throat of her victim. She had been standing there for several seconds, unable to react or even comprehend what it was that she had done. Her hand holding the knife shook, shock settling in that she had wantonly stolen a person’s life without consideration for its value.

But why would she? She was Viridian Aurora. If you spoke that name in the streets of Vaccuo, people would run and hide. There were entire masses of unmarked graves unofficially named after her. This should have been a tried and true activity for her, one she not only performed without worry but one that brought joy and happiness for her. Death was beautiful, something as complex as life wilting away abruptly was the essence of beauty. It was her artwork. And yet, now, she abhorred what she had done. She felt queasy and nauseous. She felt grotesque. She felt regretful. She felt guilty. 

For a brief few seconds after coming to the epiphany she had stabbed this man, she thought that perhaps she was misinterpreting events like so many times before as a result of her schizophrenia, due to the lack of blood escaping his body. Momentarily, Viridian felt a sense of relief. It could have been possible that this was his semblance, something akin to Blake’s shadow clones. However, this fleeting hope of hers proved to be a mistake. Slowly, blood frothed and slipped through the space between blade and flesh, trickling out the wound Viridian had made as his eyes slumped into the back of his skull: totally lifeless. 

Viridian’s relieved smile faded, she faltered, losing balance until she found some semblance of equilibrium by pressing her back into the concrete wall opposite her latest victim. She couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop playing over his slow and drawn out demise in her head and most importantly: she couldn’t stop blaming herself. 

Blaming herself. She didn’t need to kill him at all. He was weak, untrained and graceless in attack. The gap in ability was enormous, and yet Viridian resorted to killing him at the drop of a hat. Despite this, Viridian began convincing herself it was in self-defence, he tried to kill her, that was exactly the sort of situation she had sought after in order to kill somebody and test just how psychotic and broken she was. 

She shouldn’t have to convince herself though, she was a serial killer. This was second nature. This was normal.

And yet, she felt so dirty. Disgusting. Filthy. She was angry with herself, and she didn’t even really know why, or at least, how her frame of mind had changed so radically. Ozpin couldn’t have changed her this much, could he?

Viridian felt a soft and yet firm grip encircle her, eyes darting down where her limbs and extremities failed to react accordingly to see the small girl who had been at the mercy of her latest in a long list of victims previously, hugging her tightly.

“T-Thank you for saving me, M-Miss…” The young girl choked out between sobs, rubbing her face into Viridian’s side, weeping all the while. Viridian moved her hand reassuringly to the girl’s head, gently stroking down her long locks of hair to try and smother the girl’s fears in an uncharacteristic display of maturity and protectiveness that she simply wasn’t used to being on the providing end of. Usually it was Silver, or Red, or Linen being the one who assuaged her fears and attempted (however futilely) to put Viridian back together again. She felt almost robotic, hand moving in an automated fashion and moving more on an axis like there were gears operating in tandem with one another to move her hand for her rather than the seamless fashion Silver would do it for her. 

“I-I…” Viridian started, unsure of what to say or how to say it. She was overwhelmed, more so than by anything else she had ever tackled. She swallowed and peered up to the shattered moon above; one partially broken figure to another. “I wasn’t just going to let you be hurt by him.” Viridian settled on, finding it the least contradictory and confusing response she could muster. Being the hero wasn’t something she had extensive practice in, naturally. “You should…go home. It’s still dangerous around here. Maybe…tell the police what happened? Yeah. Do that.” Viridian mumbled, mostly talking to herself but remained loud enough for the girl to hear her. She was totally lost in her own world, eyes remaining plastered on the dead body ahead of her now, blood progressively pooling more and more around him as the seconds ticked on. Viridian thought she heard the girl say something in response, some kind of affirmative followed by thanks, but she couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t care to be. 

Once she was sure the girl was far enough away, after several minutes of abject staring, Viridian finally let out the rising feeling in her body: Vomiting and retching violently off to her side, having fully collapsed onto her side. She coughed and spluttered, saliva and spit mixed with her vomit dripped from her mouth and nose and she heaved out all the trauma. Viridian started to whimper to herself, tears spilling out from her eyes that she hadn’t realised she had been holding back this entire time. She cried and collapsed onto the hard and unforgiving concrete jungle surrounding her, sorrowfully sobbing to herself for reasons she couldn’t quite yet comprehend. She felt guilt, relief, satisfaction, self-hatred, frustration and pleasure all at the same time. She admitted inwardly it did feel good to kill again, some deep spark of joy at sinking the knife into that man’s throat, but every time she did she correspondingly experienced some inner hurt and torment; hating herself for feeling so good about it and the process of crying began again. She dug and ran her hands through her hair, pulling at her raven and blonde locks of hair and cutting open her own scalp out of pure frustration until her neatly kept fingernails were stained with blood. Every reoccurrence of happiness and joy at her killing was met with self-hatred and remorse of a hundred-fold in intensity. 

“Silver…Silver…help me…make it stop…make it all stop…I don’t want this…I don’t want the voices, I don’t want to feel this way, I don’t want any of this…” Viridian whispered sharply in between her deep and laboured whimpers as she continued to weep. 

Viridian spoke the truth, everything had been so much simpler as a mindless killer operating on Silver’s orders alone. Now she was acting independently, doing things she knew Silver would be upset or hysterical over. Worst of all, she was alone to bear the brunt of her mistakes; the consequences bearing down on her like the weight of a continent. She wondered if the regret and self-loathing would have been akin to what Silver must have felt when his decisions lead her to commit repugnant acts against humanity. He never took joy in it, that’s one of the reasons he so rarely made her engage with their enemies. The thought of it made her all the angrier with herself. She yearned for the days of being mindless and semi-conscious of the world, only focusing on the basest of pleasures and satisfying Silver. It was simpler. Easier. 

“All I want is you to hold me and make this go away…to tell me you love me…please save me, Silver!” Viridian begged, punching the ground with the underside of her fist, asking in a meaningless display of fleeting anger to whoever or whatever would listen for any kind of answer, any kind of justification for why the world’s collective burdens were piled onto her and her alone. “Why is it me? Why is it constantly me? Why does the world choose me to suffer all of this alone? I never asked for any of this…” Viridian looked down at her locket, the one her Mother had given her, sparkling as the moonlight bounced and reflected off of it; holding it in her crescent-moon-scarred hand. “Why? Why did you leave me alone? With this curse…with these voices…” At the mention of them, Viridian heard the swarms of voices rattle and bounce within her skull, the cacophony of sound making her head thump in pain. They had been subdued and quiet up to this point for days, but now the stress had redoubled their efforts and presence, with Viridian sliding back down until she was prone with the ground again, eyes wound shut in agony. “Somebody make it go away…”

“There you are, been looking all over for you, kid.” Viridian’s eyes snapped wide up, slowly drawing her head up until she saw the vestige of a caped figure, definitely the epitome of a Huntsmen as the wind kicked it up behind him. Viridian couldn’t see his face as it was still too dark, and her eyes were clouded with tears, but she distinctly remembered the voice; albeit she wasn’t too familiar with it. She quickly pulled herself up to her knees, and when she could see him moving his hand to his chest-pocket, Viridian’s blood surged as her instincts informed her that was one of the many places somebody could conceal a weapon. Emerald light surged into the shape of her sword, and she adopted her stance, however shaky her body still was in the aftermath of her expulsion of conflicting emotions. “Whoa! Whoa, calm down, kiddo. It’s not a weapon, see?” The mysterious figure said, stepping closer and bringing out the object in question that had set Viridian off so suddenly. She remained tightly bound to her stance without buckling an inch, just in case the revelation was a coy attempt to get passed her defences. Eventually she saw a silver metal flask with a familiar design etched into it: Beacon’s school design. Viridian’s eyebrow arched, and her blade faltered, tip of it no longer horizontal with her chest, instead, falling to rest against the ground until the blade shattered out of reality. 

“You’re…Yang and Ruby’s…uncle…?” Viridian asked, uncertain, features softening until only resembling a confused and uncertain girl, not a broken and scarred monster unsure of who they ever were anymore. 

“Yeah, good looking face like mine isn’t easy to forget.” Qrow chided playfully, before uncapping his flask and sipping from it. “Guess I was lucky to find you when I did.” Qrow’s eyes drifted to the side, acknowledging the dead body beside the Maiden. “Unlucky for some.” Viridian avoided Qrow’s gaze- rubbing her arm nervously- not wanting to see the disgust or disapproval in his eyes that were no doubt there. “We should get going.”

“But…” Viridian started, still trying to collect herself, absent-mindedly tucking her dishevelled hair behind her ear. “Why are you here? How did you find me?” 

Qrow smirked, walking closer before placing his hand on Viridian’s hand gently ruffled it. Viridian felt reminiscent of Silver’s warm and doting touch as Qrow did so and, for a moment, her fears and anxieties were quelled. 

“Ever since old Oz brought me into his inner circle its been my job to keep an eye on the Maiden closest to Vale. Historically, that was Fall. But things change,” Qrow chuckled dryly. “Kinda like the seasons…”

 

Qrow escorted Viridian back to her team’s dormitory room in relative peace without noteworthy issue, if one ignored the occasional drunkard (who wasn’t Qrow, ironically) who passed them by with inflammatory comments. He noticed the girl had remained completely silent the entire time, eyes locked solely on the ground below her. They were vacant and void, but not in the psychotic way he had been informed of about her. Instead, she looked deep in thought; comatose to what was happening around her. Qrow was never the best at emotional counselling, truth be told he hadn’t expected Viridian to be hit so hard about the death of anyone really so he wasn’t quite prepared for this. 

From what he had been informed of by Ozpin, the newest Maiden under his care should have been euphoric. Perhaps that in itself required counselling but of a different variety than the kind she required now. He decided to leave sleeping dogs where they lie, and not bring up anything uncomfortable for the girl; not that the silence was particularly pleasant either. 

Once they arrived at the door of Team SLVR’s dormitory room, she stood there statuesque for a considerable amount of time. She seldom flinched, let alone exhibit any movements one could mistake as signs of life. She better resembled a zombie. Eyes plastered on the door ahead. 

Slowly, she reached her hand towards the handle, and finally pulled back once more; fingers tensing as she did so and finally let her hand drop in place before letting out a sigh. Qrow couldn’t stand by and observe her indecisiveness, something was clearly wrong and it was unsettling. 

“Hey, kid: What’s wrong?” Qrow asked, leaning against the wall next to her but left her with enough space so didn’t feel stifled. Truth be told Qrow didn’t know the girl much at all, so he felt uncomfortable trying to comfort her more intimately than he was. Sure, it was his job to observe and protect the Maiden assigned to Vale; but that didn’t necessitate a close relationship. Usually he kept his distance and only jumped in when he was left with no choice. With Viridian, that didn’t seem a realistic option especially with whatever existential angst she was experiencing. 

“What if…they’re mad with me?” Viridian asked, quiet as a mouse. She sounded rueful, even disgusted, maybe. Qrow was closely acquainted with that self-loathing, he had dealt with it nearly his entire lift thanks to his semblance. 

“Why would they be?” Qrow asked, his own voice soft and coaxing. 

“I’m supposed to be getting better, and I just…do something stupid like this. I didn’t even tell them. I was selfish. I’m never selfish. I’m confused about…” Viridian sighed, hand reaching up to her necklace and fumbled and rolled it around her fingers absent-mindedly, playing with the clasp to open the pendant up before thinking better of it. “…Everything.”

“Change doesn’t come quick. To earn something good, something you value highly, you gotta work on it, kid. It takes time and resolve.” Qrow reached out, placing his hand on Viridian’s shoulder, finally cajoling the Maiden to look up from the door to his face; warm and kind; something she wouldn’t have expected to look so pleasant with his rugged features. “You’re bound to trip up and fall, make mistakes and the like. But you can’t stay down and feel sorry for yourself. Pick yourself up and try again, harder next time. Okay?” 

Viridian looked up and down him, trying to figure out if he was real or not. Whether or not this was her errant mind playing tricks on her again and if she could trust the advice being given to her. When she was sure he was real Viridian gave a definitive nod back to him.

“Thank you. You know, you’re a lot like Yang and Ruby.” Viridian said, lips curving into a smile for the first time in what felt like decades.

Qrow paused, quirking an eyebrow. “…In what way?” He said, hand massaging over his pocket where his flask resided. He hoped Yang’s party-girl and adrenaline-junkie attitude hadn’t given rise to a drinking problem. 

“You’re a good person.” 

Just as Viridian finished her compliment, leaving no time for her to discern exactly what Qrow’s reaction would be to her genuine compliment of his character, the door swung open; giving Viridian little time to pivot to the side to avoid having oak slam into her face violently. Stood behind the door was Silver, face a mix of apprehension and slowly rising relief as he noticed the Raven and Blonde-haired girl ahead of him. His shoulders sagged visibly, and a breath that looked as if it had been held uncomfortably and unnaturally long was finally released. His arms quickly ensnared Viridian, wrapping around her shoulders and back as her face was pressed into his firm but comforting chest. It didn’t take her long to reciprocate, his chest was often where she would plant her head down upon and drift off whenever she needed to escape her worries or pains. It was her safe place, and it didn’t hurt that the six inches or so in height difference meant she was practically clavicle height anyway. Out of curiosity, Viridian peered behind Silver's shoulder to see Red and Linen were waiting patiently behind him. Red looked eager to grab and squeeze her younger sister as soon as possible, equally as anxious as Silver apparently had been to get her arms around Viridian. That set her at ease, knowing she hadn't angered them as much as she had upset them. 

“Thank Dust. Are you okay?” Silver said, trying best to keep his voice level and even, but even with her impaired social capabilities Viridian could tell when Silver was fabricating the truth. He may have had silver eyes, but the same couldn’t be said for his tongue. Not with her, in any case, she knew him too well. 

“Better now.” She mumbled, nuzzling his pectorals and listening to his erratic heartbeat slow down to a mild pace. It was faster than usual, but he had the right to be on edge. Guilt flooded Viridian all over again as she thought about how worried her lover must have been, waking up to find her completely absent without so much as a note to indicate where she was. She gripped tighter to his shirt, trying to stop her whole body from shaking with quiet rage at her own stupid actions. 

“That’s all that matters then.” Silver replied and Viridian could almost sense the smile returning to his face through his words, and that quietened her guilt somewhat. 

“You’re…not gonna ask where I was? Or why I was gone?” Viridian asked, tentatively. She truthfully didn’t want an answer, but it was nagging at her. She just wanted to remain in his embrace and let her troubles melt away, but her curiosity over the lack of Silver’s own won out in the end.

“I don’t care. So long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters to me. If you want to tell me, I’m all ears. All four of them.” That made Viridian giggle, Silver always knew the best way to defuse tension with comedy and even now was no exception. “If you’d rather keep it to yourself then I’ll respect that. Just…promise me not to do it again?” Silver’s arms withdrew somewhat, and Viridian was tempted to fight like a child and cling longer, but she let them pull back to her shoulders and biceps; rubbing encouragingly for an answer.

Viridian looked up, eyes wide at the dawning realisation that Silver’s eyes were rawer then usual; skin surrounding them puffy and red as if he had been crying. She understood why, and it made her all the more disappointed in herself for leaving on some foolish form of psychotic self-reflection instead of simply staying beside the man who had always protected her and put her needs and wished before anything else. Of course he would have been distraught enough to cry, he probably thought she had finally abandoned him. It wasn’t a preposterous conclusion to reach either, Viridian was known to fly off the handles at the best of times, especially with an existential crisis forcing her to revaluate who she even was. Silver relied on her as much as she did him, like he had said: They were two broken people who just about made one somewhat complete person. She would never just leave, so her disappearance must have brought up some unpleasant theories. Viridian was his purpose in life; to keep her safe and happy. Without her, he would shatter. She knew this. She had always been aware of this. And yet she still selfishly left.

She gulped away her shame, and nodded to him. Rather than berate herself over her stupid actions, he deserved an answer and an honest one at that. She didn’t want Silver to ever experience that fear of losing her again. She didn’t want to make the same mistake she had done that night. Like Qrow said, pick yourself up and try again. Harder. 

“I promise. I won’t leave again. I’m with you, forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Holy crap, sorry for being gone for so long! I had no intention of leaving this story sitting for three months but University had me swamped with essays and creative writing pieces. Fun fact, I could probably have submitted two chapters to this story with the amount I've had to write, so the length of time I've been gone sorta makes sense. I still have exams, but writing helps alleviate stress. 
> 
> Okay, onto the summary. So, I've had this chapter in the back of my mind for a while but I was never sure when or where to pull the trigger on it. I think all things considered it makes sense to have Viridian's development occur over the course of time, but it makes more sense to have this happen relatively quickly after Ozpin's revelation to her. She's more independent and willing to test that out, even if she isn't fully aware of why, so her waiting around wouldn't be in character or realistic. 
> 
> So Viridian is not the senseless bloodthirsty killer she once was. She thinks she is, and still thinks that's normal; but her body and brain with its greater sense of empathy and cognitive ability isn't able to kill someone without experiencing massive trauma. Much as most people might not feel sympathy to her victim, think of it like her conscience and body having its reset button pushed. Just because she is personally used to killing, her body isn't and is reacting as if it belonged to a regular person. Most well adjusted people would probably be so shocked and disgusted they would react like she did. 
> 
> And Qrow was there to make sure nothing bad happened and she got home, good old Qrow. I don't like inserting him or Raven whenever I need a Deus Ex Machina of sorts, but I remember in Volume 3 when Qrow arrives to "save" Amber, and I assume he is ordered to shadow the Maiden nearest to Vale out of protection, given we know how important they are and how they can't fall into enemy hands. I'm curious if this is the same with all the Maiden's across Remnant (that Ozpin's brotherhood are aware of, obviously) or if it's only for the inexperienced ones. I'd imagine it'd be the latter, but even thought Viridian has been a Maiden for a while it stands to reason she would still require extra protection given her erratic behaviour.
> 
> Awww, Silver's so sweet. He only cares about Viridian's safety, nothing more. It's about all he can ask for considering her penchant for getting herself hurt; be it by herself or others. Don't make him cry again, Viridian. You've gotta get better. Hopefully this experience motivates her to do so. 
> 
> Next time we'll get back to good old LadyBug, since I'm dying to implement my ideas.


	33. Finally, Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake prepares Ruby for their classes, and share some intimacy. Silver confides in them some of his fears...

It took Blake a Saint’s level of willpower to practically all but peel Ruby off of her body and not continue with their newly discovered, or at least admitted, erotic display of mutual affection. She convinced herself that there was no reason to rush ahead with their budding relationship, lest either of them regretted their actions without having an adequate amount of time to prepare themselves emotionally and psychologically. Blake was aware that between the two of them there was a substantial amount of baggage that could unsettle the peace and serenity that this newly found relationship was intended to afford the two of them after (in Ruby’s case) months of emotional torment, mostly self-imposed. Ruby reluctantly agreed with Blake’s logic, clearly disappointed to have her first major make-out session interrupted by Blake’s forced chastity. However, it was clear to Blake that Ruby was comparably less upset over this fact than her turmoil of the previous few days regarding what she had assumed would be an unrequited love. They had both waited long enough for this. They could both afford to wait just a little bit longer before they jumped into the fray. Besides, with Ruby’s injury there was no way the Raven-haired half of their duo was going to partake in any strenuous physical activities, much as her libido pleaded otherwise. 

Blake could afford to be a little proud of her restraint, if nothing else. 

Regardless of personal accolades and self-congratulations on her willpower at holding back with their burgeoning relationship and the physical intimacy associated with it, Blake did technically have an actual duty get on with, namely helping Ruby get changed and prepared for the lectures and lessons they had assigned to them. Much as it might be comfortable for Ruby to remain in her pyjamas that left plenty enough to the imagination without being too modest like Weiss’ own, it would be improper not to get Ruby changed into something better fitting for their day ahead. Ruby’s arm meant that sleeves were out of the window, however, so changing Ruby into her school uniform would be impossible. Fortunately, the Academy had made an exception to that rule given the brunette’s injury, allowing a more casual attire for the leader of team RWBY, at least until her recovery was complete. 

However, there was a considerable gap between simply the theoretical and the application of such thoughts. The moisture in Blake’s throat and lips evaporating and leaving her dry as the deserts surrounding Vaccuo during the act of peeling Ruby’s pyjamas off, applying each item of clothing in methodically and excruciatingly slow detail. Blake thought it better than haphazardly slapping on each article, for a variety of reasons: Least of all the possibility of hurting Ruby’s shoulder, but also because she didn’t want to unnecessarily display her own discomfort or embarrassment with the task she had laid out to her. Blake didn’t particularly understand where this feeling of shyness at seeing Ruby naked came from, it was a radical change in her disposition and mindset that she had never even once considered before. They usually got changed in front of one-another, seldom using the bathroom for privacy except for in the case of Weiss, who was just too prudish that it tickled Blake whenever she would skip off earlier than most, usually with Yang mewing quietly to herself or unapologetically staring at her significant other. This would go unnoticed by all except for Blake, Faunus ears were a boon even if she was afraid of the repercussions of their discovery by others. Nevertheless, she assumed that for whatever reason the admittance of their shared feelings had awoken her bashful side and she did her best to keep a straight face and not allow her eyes to linger on Ruby voluptuous breas-

‘No. Bad brain. Stop right there’. Blake slammed her eyes shut, rebuking herself for letting her thoughts trail off into indecency. She took a quick and sharp breath, trying to reorganise herself. She was sure her blush and hesitancy had destroyed any semblance of the façade that she was capable of doing this without coming off as perverted or crude. She mourned for her indifferent persona and outwardly appearance, accepting that Ruby would probably judge her or think her a hypocrite given how Blake had been so quick to euthanise their making out minutes prior. 

Instead, Blake caught Ruby’s own sheepish smile, eyes cast downwards from her own embarrassment; although she seemed considerably less conflicted and if anything, she looked happy. 

‘Idiot! Of course she would be, why wouldn’t she? The girl she loves is staring at her…’ Blake scowled, more at herself and her inability to recognise the depth of their relationship and how that contrasted with that of some random person ogling Ruby’s chest. Blake could feel some of the weight of her doubt being lifted from her with that realisation, Ruby wouldn’t pre-eminently judge her just for staring, and the knowledge that Ruby was also equally as thoroughly embarrassed by the whole affair as she was both adorable and relieving to know she wasn’t alone in her thoughts and feelings.

“D-Don’t stare so much…” Ruby mumbled, smile still plastered over her bright-red face. It sounded like a half-hearted plea, more out of modesty and as a social norm than discomfort at being stared at. Still, Blake abided by her request. 

“O-Of course, sorry, I won’t do it again…” Blake mumbled, continuing to dress Ruby with as little gawking as she could muster. 

Silence once again dominated the space between them, until Ruby’s voice squeaked quietly, and it earned a quirked eyebrow from the Faunus of the two. 

“Did you say something, Ruby?” Blake queried to her younger Team Leader. 

“Y-You…can…you know, stare. If you want. I-I don’t mind. I-If I can…stare back…or not…” Ruby fiddled with her fingertips, pressing them into her lap nervously. Her words trailed off and quietened towards the end, but Blake’s ears twitched and flickered at the sound and still picked it up clear as day. Blake smiled, reassuringly planting both her hands onto Ruby’s shoulder; limiting the amount of weight she applied on the weaker of the two. 

“You can stare as much as you want, when we get there. Okay?” Blake compromised, as little a compromise as it truly was. She was holding true to her promise that she would wait until Ruby was ready. She was young and impressionable, and Blake didn’t want anything to happen intimately between to two without it being perfect for Ruby. Nobody deserved to have their first time ripped from them with such callousness as Adam did to her. She was going to be respectful of Ruby’s personal space and wellbeing; physically and mentally. 

“You better, Belladonna.” Blake was surprised by the confidence teetering on arrogance from Ruby, her impish smile streaking along her rose-tinted face. It was actually quite the attractive feature to Blake, so long as it remained light-hearted enough. It helped to know that such confidence could only be drawn out of Ruby among those she was close with or surrounding something she adored, such as weapon-maintenance or cookies. It was heart-warming to know Ruby considered Blake to be someone she was close with, or even something she loved. 

“Careful, this kitty’s got claws.” Blake teased, smirking to herself as she purred into Ruby’s ear, the younger girl’s face falling into wide-eyed shock and embarrassment at Blake’s teasing. Blake found it amusing how inexperienced with the back and forth of flirting Ruby was, and how easily nervous she became. Blake couldn’t help but chuckle and as penance for her crime (of which of course Ruby had pouted at) she loosely held Ruby from behind; drawing her arms Ruby’s collar bone and nuzzled into the brunette’s head. “Sorry. You’re just way too cute.”

Ruby groaned, the same way she would when Yang would say the same, except even the brunette realised there was a different implication to that of when her older sister would say it. Despite the fact it did feel a little condescending and embarrassing, she still enjoyed it when Blake did it. Especially when they were so close and she could lean in to her girlfriend’s touch. She was beginning to think she might have been a masochist with how much she enjoyed all the little ways Blake could disorientate her with her teasing. 

“D-Don’t make it a habit…but…” Ruby said, trailing off quietly again.

“But?” Blake repeated, not letting go of Ruby, but leaning forwards so she could make eye contact with the silver-eyed girl. 

Ruby’s eyes darted back and forth, up and down, as she organised her thoughts on how to respond. She knew what she wanted to say, just not how to say it. There was also the barrier of just how mortifying it would be to admit the truth. Finally, she found the courage the meet Blake’s eyes as she discovered some compromise of her own. 

“How good is that Faunus hearing of yours?” Ruby asked and Blake looked immediately perplexed by the question, but responded soon after with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

“Very good, I’d assume. I can hear as far as down the hall if I focus on it.” Blake responded and Ruby nodded accordingly.

“Okay. Then can you hear this…?” Ruby began, before whispering so quietly it sounded like nothing but air drifting through her lips; the only evidence of speech being the movement and curving of her lips. Blake’s ears twitched in recognition of Ruby’s words; standing to their full height beneath her bow that stretched to keep them hidden still.

Blake’s eyes widened initially. She was sure she was mishearing Ruby; her hearing was advanced even amongst most Faunus’, but it wasn’t a miracle worker: there were some things not even she could register. Despite that, the words were still distinguished and clear so that she couldn’t possibly confuse them with anything else.

_**“But I love you, so it’s okay.” ** __****_

_******** ___

_****_

 

Once their awkwardness and nervousness at Ruby’s admission of her affections had passed, Blake finally managed to complete Ruby’s ensemble: Black skinny jeans and tank top with a red hoodie so the trademark combination of colours matched what Ruby would regularly wear. Blake decided there was no point putting Ruby through any unnecessary stress by slipping her injured arm through the sleeve and instead simply had it hanging off to her flank instead. It would keep her warm enough and wasn’t liable to slip off so it did its job adequately enough. 

Truthfully, Blake was a little disappointed that it had come to an end as soon as it did. Despite the fact that there was a clear uncertainty on how to act or approach the newfound conditions of their relationship, the closeness they were sharing was pleasant. It was nice to know there wasn’t some figurative emotional wall separating them anymore. They didn’t speak much, but words weren’t necessary really. There was an unspoken understanding. Even though Ruby had no experience in romance and Blake’s experience was deeply traumatic, just sharing proximity with one-another was relaxing as if bathing in a personal hot spring of intimacy. 

“Ready to go?” Blake asked, once she had finished with clothing Ruby and stepped back to allow the smaller girl to stand up, testing her shoulder by cautiously rolling it to see how tense it was. It appeared mostly fluid in motion with little pain from how fixed Ruby’s facial features were. 

“Umm…” Ruby began, as she turned to look up at Blake, the older girl’s face pulled into a subtle smile that most would have missed; but not Ruby. She had been around Blake so much at this point that she was capable of picking up on the minutest of changes in Blake’s features and her guise of stoicism and deadpanned apathy. It wasn’t a particularly new realisation, but the thought that she and she alone could make Blake smile and at the same time be the only person who could ever notice it, made both her heart flutter and her ego bloom. “J-Just one last thing I need to grab…” 

Ruby reached across with her able hand and slid it down Blake’s arm to her palm, matching its shape before curling into it and entwining her fingers with Blake’s own.

“R-Ready.” Ruby smiled, down at her feet. It was a simplistically childish gesture, but holding Blake’s hand was something she had wanted to do for quite some time and now she both finally had an excuse and justification. What she didn’t expect, however, was how quickly Blake’s own fingers copied Ruby’s own with their entwining until they were like weeds wrapping around each-other. It made her heart flutter and she could swear she could hear Blake chuckle, however quietly. 

“People might see us.” Blake responded, Ruby assumed it was meant to be some counter argument to holding hands publicly, but the lilt to Blake’s tone made it seem playful and jovial; happy even. 

“I couldn’t care less.” Ruby looked up, catching Blake’s amber pools in her silver own. Liquid fire and metal melting into one-another once more. “I kinda wanna show you off too.” Ruby’s smirk was mischievous and proud, she truly thought of Blake very highly and the cat-Faunus wasn’t too sure how to feel exactly. She never thought of herself as anything worth being lauded or shown off, but she supposed she had never really had any reason to think that either. Whether it was being discriminated against for being a Faunus or being subjugated to Adam’s tyranny, she never felt particularly valued. Except of course, by her parents. But they were a different story, and Blake didn’t want to be drowned by her guilt at abandoning them. She was happy to be with Ruby and Ruby deserved to be happy herself. 

“I think I’ll be the one showing you off.” Blake winked, and walked them over to the exit of their dorm as they prepared to make their way to the sparring room where their class would be waiting for them along with the rest of their team. Blake didn’t look back to see Ruby’s reaction, already assured the girl would have had her flush renewed once more. It wasn’t difficult to win their burgeoning flirtatious game they had been playing, but it was best not to rub Ruby’s nose in how easy it was for Blake to win. Her dry humour and quick wit simply made it too easy to turn anything Ruby said back on herself, or come up with the perfect retort. Ruby lacked to confidence and shamelessness of her elder sister, so she couldn’t turn the tables on Blake like Yang could with Weiss despite her being outmatched verbally. 

As Blake opened the door, still mid-thought, she turned her head to notice a familiar wolf-Faunus leaning against the wall near his own dorm room, arms folded with one foot planting its sole on the wall itself. Blake made a mental note to suggest that Coco should consider Silver for a modelling position, his pose gave the illusion he would do well for it at least. And if not, it would be funny experiencing his distaste and disgruntled demeanour as Coco bossed him around. 

“Morning, Silver. Not in class already?” Blake asked, giving the blonde a wave of her hand. 

Silver looked up, reimbursing her with his own wave as well as one to Ruby; who obviously could only nod her head in recognition of the gesture.

“I’ve never been one for being punctual.” He smirked. “More importantly, I thought I would congratulate the two of you on finally getting together. Took long enough.”

Ruby’s recently faded blush came roaring back in what was quickly becoming for the brunette something she was strangely accustom to, if slightly unsettled at the whole idea of how easy it was to unnerve or embarrass her surrounding Blake or her feelings for the girl.

“W-What? But…how did you…?” Ruby began, before Silver countered her question prior to its completion by swiftly tapping the air next to her wolf-ears, standing to attention at their full height as he smiled, rather smugly.

“I should have considered that possibility…” Blake said, in a rare explicit admission of fault over her own lack of foresight.

Ruby’s body sagged, a disappointed breath escaping from between her lips. She really should have known; those Faunus traits of increased hearing capabilities were becoming all too prevalent in her life. What made it worse, was the accompanying knowledge that if Silver (whose team’s room was across the hall from her own) could hear her and Blake’s confessions then so could probably half the student body who happened to be of the similar lineage as he and Blake. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak, and Ruby was a little relieved if she was being honest. It meant the awkward explanations could be skipped. She was never good at those, and she definitely did not enjoy them. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t go blabbing or anything.” Silver reassured them.

“We appreciate that.” Blake said back, tightening her grasp around Ruby’s fingertips, making the heart of the shorter girl do summersaults and leave her a giddy mess. Something then crossed Blake’s mind, and she chewed along the edge of her lip until she found the resolve to broach the subject. Silver had effectively deflected the previous inquiry into his presence in the halls and not with his team, but Blake wasn’t about to let that slide past her twice. “Silver, why aren’t you with the rest of your team?”

Silver’s head turned from addressing the two girl’s and his eyes stared off into space. His smile faded quick, and his fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket until they pressed against his muscles. His jaw was set and firm, teeth running over his lip in thought. Blake couldn’t tell if he was trying to organise a response, or he hadn’t yet really arrived at one. Either way, she opted to let him remain silent for as long as he needed, even if it was making Ruby nervous from how she was shuffling nervously. She never was good at dealing with awkward or protracted silences. Blake found it adorable, in reality. 

“Honestly? I’m trying to just sort my head out.” Silver admitted, openly and honestly. His body language was heavy, like there was a great weight on him. His eyes regularly stared down towards the ground, although more out of a lack of focus than interest.

“About what? What’s so monumental you couldn’t talk to your team about?” Blake inquired. 

"It's..." Silver sighed, frustratedly. "It's nothing. Don't worry."

Blake chewed her lip. It was disconcerting to see Silver so visibly worry over something, but keep it bottled up. She knew just how bad that could have an effect on people. She had been missing classes and sleep when she was worrying about the White Fang, and if it hadn't been for Yang she probably would have collapsed and done even more harm. The bags under his eyes told her he was wrestling with something equally as worrying.

"Please, Silver? You can trust us. Right Ruby?" Blake nudged her lover.

"Uh! Right, yeah! No problem, we're here to help." 

Silver couldn't help but feel a little grin begin to form at Ruby's optimism. Maybe they could help, it wouldn't hurt to get an opinion at the least.

“Last night…Viridian…she…” Silver began, before sighing heavily, stopping in his tracks.

“She, what?” Blake asked, trying to urge Silver on. She’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the Maiden. She was a mystery, wrapped in an enigma. A closely guarded secret of team SLVR, one Silver himself wasn’t totally forthcoming with details that were self-explanatory from her being a Maiden.

“She left. And then she came back.” Silver continued, tapping his foot against the floor, apprehensively.

“Umm…Earth to Silver? That’s really vague. What do you mean?” Ruby asked, her head tilting to the side like a dumb puppy might.

“As in Viridian went wondering out in the middle of the night. And, she did it, without my consent.” There was a grave tone to Silver’s voice. “Nothing. Not a discussion, an argument, nothing. She never does anything without asking me. And she hasn’t offered an explanation or anything. She won’t even look at me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Blake inquired.

“Not…inherently, no. It’s more unusual. She’s never been capable of being independent or making her own decisions. It’s why I’ve always reined her in. It’s why she always answers to me. She’s not capable of doing things on her own and now she suddenly does it out the blue. I’m worried. What if she suddenly takes off and doesn’t come back? What if she gets hurt? I couldn’t live with myself if that happened…”

Blake finally understood the issue, and the supplementary weight it carried with it. Viridian was by no means a conventional…anything: Lover, fighter, student or teammate. Silver and his team had carefully structured their team dynamic to fit her own and make her feel comfortable. She was safe and protected, they treated her with care but also reverence like a family would a small child. She was the epicentre of their team and a beloved part of it all the same. And yet now she had radically acted out and naturally Silver could only hear and see the alarm bells ringing inside his own head. He was protective of her; her health was paramount in any decision or action he took but this had clearly thrown him for a loop. He simply wasn’t use to this behaviour and was concerned with whether or not she needed him. 

That was the crux of it all: He needed her as much as she needed him. He was panicking, terrified his role was now obsolete and so too was everything it came with. Terrified she would toss him to the wayside. 

From Blake’s own experiences it was obvious how much she cared for him, doting on him and his every word like she was some priest and he was the messiah. She stuck to him like glue and was equally devoted to his cause and whatever it was he asked of her; miniscule or grand. Blake thought it was sort of cute of Silver to be so worried over whether or not Viridian would so easily discard him. 

Still, the situation was a timebomb that needed defusing. All elements of team SLVR could prove volatile, and she’d rather not be in proximity when that explosion went off.

“I think I understand. Why not do something for her then? Something that only you can do for her. Something that reminds her of just how unique and important you are to her.” Blake said, smiling as brightly as she could muster to give some confident body language to her usually monotone words.

A light blush tinted the top of Silver’s cheeks. It was obvious he wasn’t used to relationship advice. Blake felt as much out of place giving it as he was receiving it, she was certainly no guru. Ruby was only her second relationship, and it hadn’t started out on a firm and solid grounding. 

“L-Like what?” Silver asked, tentatively, eyes widening as he clearly approached the subject matter Blake was suggesting. 

“Oh! You mean sex?” Ruby chimed in, and Silver’s jaw nearly dropped through the floor from the suddenness and bluntness of Ruby’s comment. 

“S-S-Sex?!” Silver exclaimed.

“That’s what you meant, right Blake?” Ruby asked, looking up to her girlfriend, who herself was struggling to stop herself from breaking out into laughter. Ruby was young, uninitiated in the sexual act as well-aware in the existence of it as she was. The topic wasn’t something everybody was comfortable with, and from Silver’s reaction and how he was gawking he definitely fell into that camp. 

“R-Right, that’s what I meant…” Blake coughed, clearing her throat and doing her best to recompose herself. “It’s certainly something intimate the two of you can share. Something she would only share with you.” 

Silver was still left slack jawed, neurons within his head seizing and sparking at Ruby’s unapologetic way of addressing Blake’s initially subtle suggestion. For such an innocent looking girl, she could come across as excessively blunt. If Silver had the capacity of thought, he might have compared Ruby to her own sister and wonder if it was a familial trait. Instead, he stammered and searched for any response he could come up with. 

“That’s…an…interesting idea. But I’m not sure it’s something I can do…” Silver finally said, although he trailed off and his response lacked a proper explanation, his fingers cracking and tensing relentlessly with his nervous energy.

“Why not?” Ruby asked, and Blake was just about to inform Ruby that it wasn’t her place to pry so much, especially from how uncomfortable it obviously was making Silver; but for once regarding this topic Silver was swift to respond and cut her off before she even began.

“I’m a Wolf-Faunus. We’re well known for being…aggressive, for lack of a better term. The one time I’ve made love to Viridian I…” Silver shuddered. “She didn’t make much of it, barely gave it second thought but I hated myself for hurting her.

“If I can’t protect her from myself…what good am I to her?” Silver finally finished, slumping against the wall and sliding down it until he finally sat upright against it, head fallen down so his fringe completely masked the light of his eyes; making him look even more despondent and defeated than he already was.

Blake sighed, and with her free hand that wasn’t clasped to Ruby’s own she face-palmed herself before biting down onto her lip in frustration, naturally arousing Ruby’s intrigue even more than Silver’s explanation about how being a Faunus had anything to do with aggression; she expected that rhetoric from human supremacist; not a Faunus themselves. 

“Blake?” 

“He’s right.” 

Ruby’s eyebrows did a practical summersault atop her brow. Such negative comments regarding Faunus sounded absurd coming from Silver, but from Blake? That was madness. She never had a bad thing to say about species. Individuals? Their personalities? Sure. But this was a blanket statement, or so it appeared. 

“Faunus’ animalistic traits don’t always stop at the physical, Ruby. Sometimes, depending on the type, Faunus carry over their animalistic traits to their personality or at the very least; how they react to certain…stimuli. Cat Faunus,” 

Blake began, gesturing to her top set of twitching ears that momentarily enraptured Ruby in how adorable she found them.

“Are considerably athletic, a physical trait of cats, along with being nimble and skittish. We’re nervous around people and sometimes--- slow to trust. That’s just an example of animalistic traits Cat Faunus commonly have. It’s not always negative, and it varies on how extreme it is from person to person; but it’s more the rule than the exception.” Blake explained. 

Ruby practically hung on every single one of Blake’s words. Whether it was Blake’s way of explaining things, her sweet velvety (if usually monotone) voice or just Ruby’s general attraction towards the girl, she found it impossible not to listen to Blake’s lecture. She imagined Weiss would be exuberant over the fact there was something that could finally result in Ruby listening properly to a lecture, given her poor track record during lessons and Weiss’ irascibility over that fact.

“Likewise, Faunus with dog features are known for their warm and open personalities and being very excitable, depending on the breed of course. They’re also known for being very loyal and protective. As for the Wolf Faunus,” Blake gestured to Silver, who finally lifted his head in acknowledgement of Blake’s point, understanding exactly what her implication was.

“We’re not unlike the Dog Faunus, loyal to a fault. The difference being we’re far more pack-orientated. We like being around family, and family tend to be another Wolf-Faunus and, of course, Wolf-Faunus also tend to be aggressive. Territorial. And that extends to practically everything we do: Including mating. That’s fine when you’re raised in that environment and it comes intrinsically to you. But it’s not the same with Viridian. I want to stop her from getting hurt, not cause it. The thought of her leaving me or getting hurt is enough to drive me to paranoia.”

Ruby couldn’t help but have her shoulders droop at the frailty in Silver’s voice. There was some defiance and refusal to surrender, but it sounded pinned and oppressed by the fear and self-loathing from previous mistakes. It was practically infectious, spreading to Ruby even when she equally hated giving up. Stubbornness ran in the family, and apparently, she attracted similar attitudes like a magnet would. She couldn’t really think of any of her friends who would bow their head and stop trying, no matter what goal they had or what obstacle was being placed ahead of them. 

“Maybe you should try thinking with a little more flexibility.” Blake responded, the inflection in her voice was curious to both Ruby and Silver, the two of them coking their heads in interest. 

“What do you mean?” Silver asked.

“Well, you’re under the impression there’s only one way to have sex and that it will hurt Viridian. There are ways we could…temper you.” Blake spoke playfully, a wry smile pulling at the corner of her lips.  
Silver’s eyes began to widen somewhat, and his flush was renewed.

“I don’t think I’m going to like where this is going…” He said, voice dropping a few decibels as it trailed off.

“The perfect solution to this conundrum is obvious.” Blake pointed her index finger at Silver. “You just have to let her lead.”

“Lead?” Ruby asked. “How does a girl…lead with a guy? Considering, well…you know…” Ruby waved her hand below her waist, side to side, and tried her best not to make contact as she awkwardly tried to convey what she meant without explicitly stating it. “The design makes it hard…”

Blake chuckled and curled her fingertips around Ruby’s tighter. Everything she did was so damn endearing and cute to the Faunus. 

“Let’s just say there are plenty of methods and items that can reverse who can be the dominant force in the bedroom.” Blake slyly said, trying her best not to bring up the precise topic that would explain how she knew and how it might raise questions to the validity of her proposition. Along with the fact it was also mortifying.

If it wasn’t for how her books were a necessary segment in Ruby’s construction of their bunkbeds, she might have been able to spare her blushes whenever somebody came across her copies from the “Ninjas of Love” series.

‘Never again. Oh Dust, never again.’ Blake thought to herself.

Silver sighed, running his hands through his hair. “What would your suggestion be then? Dust…I can’t believe I’m actually going along with this…”

“Winging it?” Ruby suggested, chuckling nervously.

“Winging it.” Silver responded, smiling himself.

“Handcuffs. Viridian can restrain your arms so you can’t hurt her. She can lie you down and take the lead. That way, you can show her how much you trust her, and value her, all the same. It would also allow her to maintain her independence and portrays how you don’t need to control every aspect of her life for you two to be together.” Blake explained.

“That’s…” Silver said, pausing to suck on his lip in contemplation. “Not the worst idea in the world.”

“Shouldn’t be; it’s mine after all.” Blake quipped back, earning a roll of Silver’s eyes.

Silver was giving it some serious thought. He had to. He was totally out of his depth with Viridian at this point, as confident as he was he had never dated someone who wasn’t a psychotic killer with a slew of mental frailties and illnesses before. Well, he had never been with anyone in any context apart from her, so his experience was limited to those negative traits of her's. It wasn't obvious to him how he should treat her, or how they’d get over the clear and discomforting obstacles they had reached. Silver was still a dangerous lover, and that was even more concerning now that Viridian had some sense of self-preservation and self-awareness. She could come to resent him if he hurt her and could still do the same if he didn’t relax some of the restraints he placed on what he would allow her to do. It wasn’t out of a sense of superiority he figuratively shackled her, it was simply out of concern for her well-being. He was happy to give her freedom and independence. The problem being: She had never desired that or was capable of it before. Now was different. Now was scary. Silver didn’t cope with things he found scary very well. They paralysed him. That’s why he decided to hang back as his team went off to classes ahead of him. The presence of this changed Viridian and his inability to come up with a solution petrified him. Viridian deserved freedom, he wanted that for her. Part of him was just worried if he let go, he wouldn’t be able to stop her from leaving. Part of him hated himself for treating her differently. Fearing this change in her. He was the only one who never feared her, who approached her identically to that of a normal person. And now that she was a normal person he was cowering around her like she had become a monster.

He was being a hypocrite, and he hated that above all else.

Regardless of self-imposed hypocrisy, the fear of hurting Viridian was the more pertinent issue facing Silver. He could secretly acknowledge his own hypocrisy without allowing it to surface for everyone to judge him by, but harming Viridian couldn’t be easily avoided. It made the stark contrast of their difference in species’ very apparent to him. Faunus and human relationships tended to be tumultuous at the best of times, and that didn’t factor in the personality, physiological or mental contrasts that could cause relationships to be difficult; if not impossible. 

No, history and preconceived notions about one-another tended to be the real death-knell of romantic interests between humans and Faunus. Humans’ ignorance, and Faunus pride. Not exactly the most stable of foundations to build a relationship upon. Silver and Viridian had struck it lucky. Viridian was too mentally impaired and uninformed to really judge the race or species of a person with any real malice of forethought, not to mention she had imprinted on Silver the moment he offered her the first sign of kindness in what could have been months after her Mother’s death.

He would never have guessed bending down to offer that dusty and malnourished girl a loaf of stolen, freshly cooked, bread would have been so rewarding and so complicating at the same time. 

Yes, no matter how troubling or disturbing Viridian could be he would never regret or take back a single thing with her. The moments where she was lucid and romantic, leaning on his shoulder; planting the deftest of kisses on his cheeks or holding his hand, they made everything so worthwhile. And no beauty in this world could burn as brightly as her own, not to him.

But her beauty alone couldn’t tame his beast. That wild, feral beast. The one he loathed more than any other. He hated his instincts. He had pride in who he was, and part of that was being a Faunus, but the monster within that accompanied his wolf attributes was something he truly despised. 

Maybe Faunus and humans could never bridge that gap. Coexist, maybe, possibly. But love one-another? Maybe that was just a childish pipedream he had been clinging to for far too long. 

Maybe Lucian was right. Maybe humans couldn’t understand the pain of the Faunus. Maybe the separation of the two was an inevitability: The lesser of two evils. 

But as Silver’s eyes drifted over to Ruby and Blake’s hands; entwined like grapevines, he just couldn’t hold onto that cynical thought. They were proof. It may have been new and burgeoning, but it was proof all the same. Proof even with obstacles and hatred and a million complications they had still found a way to overcome their insecurities and failings to be together. Ruby found her courage to tell Blake how she felt, what Blake meant to her, and tried her best to not let the baggage of her feelings way her partner down. And Blake overcame her fear, she didn’t run away at the first sight of danger. She was spurred on by Ruby, fought for her, and didn’t fall foul to her bloodlust for vengeance on behalf of Ruby. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, they were a tranquil ray of hope that soothed Silver’s soul.

It gave him hope that something similar awaited him and Viridian on the horizon. And it didn’t matter what Viridian would stand with him. Insane, lucid, confused, angry or tranquil. It was the girl herself that he loved. The one who always had his back, and never let him down. She would always have his back. Right to the bitter end. 

Silver finally let out a sigh and cracked his neck to relieve himself of the pent-up stress in his body before turning to his fellow Huntresses.

“Alright, I’ll give it a try. What’s the worst that could happen?” Silver jested, perhaps veering to close to cynicism with his joke but he was still determined to see it through. 

“Good luck.” Blake wished him, and Ruby gave him an inspiring nod and smile; agreeing with her partner. “Should we get to class?”

“Nah. Think I’ll head out to Vale.” Silver responded as he pocketed his hands and shrugged.

“What for?” Ruby asked. “You’ll be skipping classes.”

“I’ll take the detention. Never been the best with listening to authority much anyway.” He responded, with an impish grin. 

“Shocking.” Blake breathed, trying to remain as monotone and deadpan as possible despite the mirth entering her voice.

“Besides,” Silver began, ignoring Blake’s passing comment. “I’ve gotta find, uh, handcuffs. I guess. Red’s are probably too flimsy for me.”

“Wait, Red has…?” Ruby began, going as crimson as Red and her own’s namesake. 

“Part of the job. Satisfy the customer. Some of them liked restraining their partner. Didn’t stop her from killing them when needed or gathering whatever info we needed.” Silver explained.

“Gross.” Ruby stuck her tongue out like she had stuck something particular sour in her throat.

“Hence why we never talk about Red’s activities or role within our team before coming to Beacon. It’s sordid. Even for us.” Silver shook his head. “And on that cheery note, I’ll leave you two be.” Silver turned on his heels and began walking back down the corridor, away from Blake and Ruby.

“Good luck!” Blake called out, and Silver waved his hand in acknowledgement, before disappearing from sight. 

“So…that was…interesting.” Ruby said, breaking the silence not too soon after it had ended. She wasn’t good with silences, no matter how long or short.

“He’s a complicated guy. But a good guy.” Blake surmised her opinion of their newest addition to their circle of friends and confidants.

“Yeah. I know Yang didn’t get off on the right foot with him, but he’s pretty cool when you get to know him. You know, if maybe a little grim.” Ruby cocked an eyebrow and smirked on the side of her face closest to Blake, looking up at her as she framed her chin with her hand as if in thought.

“What?” Blake said, still not quite used to the way Ruby would now stare at her. She was sure it wasn’t something new; that combination of lust, adoration and love, but she simply hadn’t been aware of it until only a week ago. 

“He’s a lot like another certain Faunus I know.” Ruby teased, before taking Blake’s hand in her own.

“As if.” Blake rolled her eyes.

“Uncle Qrow called you emo. He was pretty right. You and Silver can be equally grim.”

“Let’s not take your drunk Uncle’s opinion very seriously.” 

“Hey, he’s only drunk most of the time!” Ruby retorted and Blake chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Should we go to class? We’re late enough as it is.” Blake reminded Ruby of their student obligations they had been on their way to attend prior to Silver’s distraction. 

“Or we could stay in the dorm and make-out more?” Ruby said, half-jokingly; half-pleadingly.

“Nice try, Romeo.” Blake said, before pulling Ruby along in a stride.

“Be fair, I’d totally be the Juliet to your Romeo. You’re more princely and handsome. In a beautiful feminine kind of way.” 

“Maybe I’ll wear a Regal Prince outfit for you, then. Sweep you off your feet and spirit you away.” Blake teased, practically feeling the heat radiate off Ruby’s face.

“Thatwouldbesohot…” Ruby mumbled to herself quickly, trying to keep it as incoherent as possible whilst still admitting how she felt.

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry this chapter has been delayed so long, but I recently got back home from my first year of University and I've been just enjoying being lazy and not writing essay after essay. Plus it's been super hot over here in the UK, and that can be pretty good at making me lethargic.
> 
> Anyway, I hoped you like the story as always!
> 
> So we got plenty of Ruby and Blake flirting and getting into the groove how each of them operate. It makes sense for Ruby to be the most unaccustomed to Romance given she's the youngest and has a protective elder sister; things we're all well acquainted with. Still, I don't like to think she's uneducated, just unpractised, so she's understandably nervous. Same with Blake, this is her first healthy relationship, but she's the kind of character (in my eyes) who once she lets you in she's very comfortable with you. She's still dry and prickly, and it's not hard to get so close with her, but once she does it's rewarding. And her dry humour works so well at teasing Ruby with. This is something I'll take advantage of, many, many times with them going forwards. 
> 
> So it didn't take Silver long to find out about Blake and Ruby. Faunus traits are fantastic plot devices, haha. Poor guy though, seeing Viridian's personality and attitude swing so aggressively towards being more independent is unsettling at the least. As I've pointed out many times, he needs Viridian as much as she needs him. They lean on each-other a lot, and the concept of her not needing him as much would be terrifying. As for the sexual violence thing, this isn't a factual thing to do with wolves mating rituals, but more of a nod towards the concept of Werewolves being vicious and violent. Given Silver is a human with wolf-characteristics, I thought it worked well in reference to the werewolf concept and slid in nicely with the manifestation of animalistic characteristics of the Faunus that are displayed within the characters in the show. Blake being cowardly like a cat, for instance. 
> 
> It also let me flesh out Faunus culture a little. Their personalities are somewhat shaped by their animal traits, and that can of course make some Faunus more difficult to integrate with humans or other Faunus, depending on the variants. Will Silver and Viridian being able to transcend that superficial difference in character? We'll have to wait and see.
> 
> And yes, Blake will certainly cosplay for Ruby. She's got the features to dress up in traditionally masculine clothing and still be dynamite. Oh Ruby, you lucky girl you...


	34. Umbral Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake decides against going to sleep to read a new book, only to discover she has an avid observer.

The night was proving late, well into the AM by this point, with the fractured moon positioned on its complete side perfecting the façade that it wasn’t in any way broken. Silver light streamed in through the window to RWBY’s dormitory room along with the light from the street lamps that ran up and down Beacon’s pathways. No member of the team had any aversion to light whilst sleeping apart from Blake due to her sensitivity to it as a Faunus, however she was still yet to make an attempt at sleep having been so enraptured with another book she had come across in Beacon’s library.

It told the story of a forlorn wanderer in a decrepit world stolen of light, the people within forced to use artificial means to guide their way and survive. It was one of those character-orientated dystopian novels that was meant to represent something in some vague Avant Garde way, usually about society or the human condition. Blake was struggling to grapple with exactly what the notion of the story was, it all seemed very existential and nihilistic to her. Repeatedly the main character would bemoan his circumstance, complaining about the loss of everything he loved whilst isolating himself in the first port of call he came across and yet refusing to do anything about it. He came across as pathetic and whiney and Blake struggled to see what he represented or why she should feel sympathetic for his cause. Mainly because he seemingly had no cause. He was nothing, and no-one to anyone. Maybe that was the answer, maybe it was because he had no-one to fight for. 

Regardless Blake was only a few chapters in so the story could swing in a wild direction and actually develop in an interesting way. The setting captured Blake’s interest well enough and the structure of sentencing and paragraphing along with description was very well formulated. Blake could appreciate fine craftsmanship even if the object in mind wasn’t to her taste. 

Blake for her part was laid on top of her bottom bunk, a small mobile light that could clasp to surfaces was attached to the headboard of her bed, its flexible spine bent in such a way it’s small source of light illuminated the pages of her book where the natural and artificial light from outside proved insufficient. 

Thankfully this day was a Friday, and so Blake didn’t have to concern herself with putting herself to bed at a reasonable hour for the morning since there were no lessons scheduled that day. Of course, she would have to sleep in at this rate and endure Yang’s “Cat Nap” jokes that were growing staler than week old bread, but that was something she could live with. A small price to pay.

Out of curiosity for her surroundings, Blake’s vision shifted towards the right where the rest of her teammates were located. Yang and Weiss were located atop what would usually be Ruby’s top bunk: Happily, snuggled together, Yang’s arms wrapped around her “Princess” (Blake could imagine Weiss groaning and correcting Yang at the mere thought of the word) and had her pressed tight to her own chest. Blake smiled, they really did look perfect together, and now that they didn’t have to hide it from their own teammates they looked less anxious and far more serene. They fit together perfectly like two jigsaw pieces and it brought Blake some joy to see them so happy. Of course, the celebrity-status that accompanied Weiss as a Schnee made it hard for the two of them to plan too far ahead as a couple, as well as bringing many more trails and tribulations for them to face, but for the meantime their peace and comfort was enough.

Slowly, Blake’s eyes shifted down towards Weiss’ designated bunk, where said Heiress’ partner was temporarily residing whilst her shoulder was still in a sling. In actuality, by this point Ruby didn’t need or wear her sling. She had been given the go-ahead to start moving her arm freely but was still focusing on physical therapy to get the reach, flexibility and strength back in her arm. It wasn’t proving an arduous process but sleeping closer to the ground meant she wouldn’t slip whilst pulling herself up if her arm gave out for any reason.

As Blake’s eyes settled on Ruby’s she could discern very clearly two orbs of Gun-metal silver eyes staring back at her own. They were wide and adoring, observing her every movement, like the apprentice to a Master Artisan might expect. Blake could feel a slight tinge of heat rise in her cheeks but made nothing of it. They continued to exchange unrelenting eye contact for a few seconds more, until Blake started worrying that maybe her light fixture was proving disruptive for Ruby. Blake pointed to the small mobile light and mouthed the words:

_“Is it too bright for you?” ___

____

____

Unfortunately, it seemed Ruby wasn’t adept at lip reading, and went to rub her eyes of sleep before shrugging nonchalantly before continuing to stare.

Blake chewed her lip, not exactly sure what to do now. Having an active audience whilst she was reading was a little unsettling. As a matter of fact, she had no idea when Ruby had woken up, so it just raised the question of how long had Ruby been observing her?

Despite the fact Ruby and Blake had come to some understanding that they were a couple, things hadn’t exactly become any less awkward between the two. There was an acknowledgement they were an item, and there was the benefit nobody had to worry about Ruby’s emotional torment over not being with the person she loved, but neither of them were outfitted with the social skills to get over the obvious pitfalls involved in a relationship. Ruby was awkward, Blake was anti-social, sometimes it took a while for them to figure things out. It also made everyday interactions all the more difficult because of that realisation they were together. The underlying subtext of being a couple meant there was a different gravity to their interactions, and neither were sure how to go about approaching it. Their rapport was generally good enough from all the time they had spent together that once in a rhythm they could flirt and talk without too many awkward silences but starting all together was proving difficult. 

And that was what Blake was finding difficult. Ruby always had this look in her eyes when looking at Blake as if the Faunus was some Goddess she should worship. Blake appreciated where the adoration was coming from but felt stymied by it. It was overwhelming, and not wholly in a bad sense, but left her tongue-tied all the same. It was times like this that their combined stare of liquid fire and metal proved too dominating for Blake to focus, and she wished Weiss or Yang could say something to distract the two of them from each-other.

God they were love-sick.

Nevertheless, Blake had to do something. If they continued like this they could starve to death. She sighed, closing her eyes and carefully shutting her book before placing it on her nightstand and stood up, plodding over and kneeling down besides Ruby, whom had kept her stare as transfixed as ever before. The one change in her countenance was her top set of teeth sinking into her lip nervously. Blake couldn’t help but smile, reaching down to tuck a stray lock of Ruby’s hair behind her ear.

“What’s up?” The older girl inquired.

“Oh…umm…you’re just really pretty is all.” Ruby responded, her brain clearly processing at half its normal speed. Which wasn’t all that fast normally, although Blake definitely didn’t hold any malice over the fact.

“That all?” 

Ruby just nodded in response. Blake wasn’t too sure she believed that totally, but after a few seconds absorbing the information Ruby had given her all she could do is shrug and accept it as fact. Ruby wasn’t proving forthcoming and it was too late to play detective. She stood back up and made her way halfway across back to her bed when Ruby’s voice chirped once again.

“I also kinda wanted to…sleep in the same bed as you.” 

By time Blake had turned around to see Ruby the girl had already disappeared under her own sheets, clearly mortified by her own admission. Blake chuckled in the back of her throat, pursing her lips in a smile and rubbed the back of her own neck. That was brave of Ruby, usually her own romantic inclinations were too embarrassing for her to admit without some form of coaxing. Blake had to somewhat clear her own throat however, the idea was certainly…unexplored for the two of them. They had respected each-other’s privacy well-enough by this point, only short kisses and hand-holding had broken down that barrier. Blake was preserving Ruby’s modesty and virginity like she had promised the two of them, as well as her own insecure self. She was still quite fragile and didn’t want to ruin anything for either of them. Still, Ruby didn’t seem to have any ulterior or lustful motive behind the suggestion; it appeared innocent enough. 

Blake crouched down again, pulling on Ruby’s blanket until she could see the silver-saucers that were Ruby’s eyes staring back at her, crimson flanking them all over her face.

“Hey.” Blake said, simply.

“Y-Yeah?” Ruby retorted, tentatively.

“Want to join me in my bed?” Blake smiled, as sweetly and welcomingly as she could muster. It wasn’t something she had…ever done, really, but she was trying her best to make Ruby comfortable and not seem weird. Every experience was new for Ruby, and there was no reason Blake should give her girlfriend a bad first impression.

Plus, she was just too adorable, how could Blake say no to that face?

“Yes please!” Ruby squeaked, raising her voice, only to be met by Blake putting her finger to her lips in reprimand, the two of them hearing one of the couple above them stirring slightly. “Yes please.” Ruby attempted again, quieter this time, and Blake offered the brunette her hand; one which she gratefully took.

Ruby slipped out from under her own blankets without taking the requisite effort to smooth them out, simply letting them fold over the top of themselves as she energetically skipped behind Blake as they made their way over to the Faunus’ bed. Blake walked around to the far side and sat down once more atop her blankets, patting the empty space for Ruby to join her. Not requiring any further permission, Ruby practically leapt onto Blake’s bed. She sprawled herself across her half of the bed, stretching out her arms and legs to the point of cross over and landing on top of Blake herself and she squeaked happily- and quietly- to herself before rolling into a ball; tucking her knees up to her chest before smiling up at Blake, her grin wide and filled with pearly white teeth.

Blake’s eyes were widened and taken aback by Ruby’s sudden enthusiasm and excitement, she was usually a nervous ball of energy that could explode at any moment but now that nervousness had been replaced with joy and the energy had been cranked up to eleven. It was undeniably cute, but it seemed a disproportionate reaction in and of itself.

“Why are you so excited?” Blake lifted a single eyebrow.

“’Cause!” Ruby giggled in reply, toes curling and uncurling like a syphon of her delight that couldn’t remain contained. 

“Because…?” Blake ushered her partner to continue. Ruby’s lips curled wider into a smile, eyes shining until she shut them as she spoke, teeth sinking into her lips.

“Because the girl I love invited me: Into her bed.” 

Blake was left momentarily speechless, her top set of Faunus ears standing to attention, facing Ruby in what an expert would realize is a sign of affection. Could such a small gesture honestly make Ruby so happy? Blake almost felt guilty. She didn’t deserve to feel so good at making Ruby happy this easily. But she asked herself: Did it really matter? Ruby was happy. Happy because of her and that’s all that could ever really matter. Blake smiled and outstretched a hand to run over Ruby’s head, stroking her soft brunette locks of hair.

“I’m glad you’re happy then.”

“Hey Blake?” Ruby asked, eyes staring up at the Raven-haired girl as she nuzzled into the older girl’s hand.

“Yes?”

“Are you happy? With…me? Or in general? Cause, I could get why you wouldn’t be and it’s not like I could make up for all the bad…” Ruby began rambling before Blake ceased her word-vomit with the press of an index finger to Ruby’s lips.

“Ruby, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in a long time. Every day with you is a new experience, and I both treasure and look forward to each and every one of those experiences.” Blake eloquently admitted, silencing Ruby and making those Silver eyes expand twice their size. Blake’s smile arced on one side, taking pride and delight at how she could so easily evoke that reaction from her leader. It did wonders for her pride, but more than anything she could feel the warm, tingling sensation spreading throughout her chest and body that couldn’t be confused with anything except for love.

“Oh…that’s cool.” Ruby all but whispered, eyes still wide and locked onto Blake’s own. She pushed up with the palms of her hands to get closer to Blake’s own height; whose own head had dipped down to close the distance between them unconsciously. 

“Yes…” Blake drawled, finding her breathing dipping low and shallow as Ruby’s face drew nearer and nearer to her own. Ruby’s eyes were beginning to flutter shut, in anticipation or in nervousness, Blake wasn’t quite sure why but her own began to do the same.

“Blake?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, Ruby?” 

“Is it okay for me to fall in love with you?” The words came out tentatively, filled with uncertainty. They were unguarded, honest, a declaration hidden in the form of a question. It was hidden as such not from fear of rejection but of desire for reinforcement. 

“Of course.” Blake breathed back to Ruby, the tips of their noses pressing together.

“What if I already am? What if I can’t stop feeling like this for you?” 

“That’s okay too.” Blake could feel her chest tighten. She just wanted this over. Not the intimacy, the wait. She wanted to kiss Ruby so bad, and she could tell Ruby was testing Blake’s own restraint. To see if she would hold true to her promise. She also needed clarity of how Blake felt. Ruby would probably be one of those girlfriends that required constant reassurance over how her partner felt. That was fine with Blake. It was one of Ruby’s many adorable traits.

“Blake…do you…do you think I can hear it from you? Please?” Blake let out a shaky breath, requiring the oxygen to think but not having the room between them where she could adequately respirate. Still, she knew exactly what Ruby meant and was not going to mince words.

“Ruby Rose, I love you with all my heart.”

As soon as Blake had finished her sentence, Ruby’s head dipped and fell from view, falling into Blake’s chest like a dead weight that nearly knocked the Raven-haired Faunus off-balance. Blake’s heart skipped a beat from the shock, and her blush kicked up ten-fold from what she assumed Ruby was doing.

“R-R-Ruby I said we couldn’t do…!”

Blake was interrupted from her defence of their chastity from the sound of snoring, and vibrations ringing through her chest. It didn’t sound like Yang’s snoring; it was simply too soft and less brutish. It was followed by high-pitched and consistent breathing, air flowing over her breasts and sending a shiver up her spine. Blake looked down to Ruby to see the girl soundly dozing atop her. Blake could only sigh whilst she ran a hand through Ruby’s hair and tucked any loose strands she came across back into place as best she could. It only made sense, as disappointing as it was to not get a kiss from Ruby. It was late and Ruby had seemed tired as soon as she woke up. Her sleep was probably disturbed by something, and any energy she had was used up in her fit of limb-flailing excitement at being invited to the opposite bed.

“Come on. You can’t sleep like this. Although, I doubt you’d complain.” Blake chuckled, as she gently coaxed and nudged Ruby’s head onto the pillow before pulling the blanket over her body and tucking her in. She stood up, making the journey over to Ruby’s bed to swiftly retrieve Ruby’s pillow and deposited it parallel to Ruby’s own for her own head and joined Ruby under the covers. Blake stretched her arms over and under Ruby’s small and perfect body to pull her tight to herself; encapsulating the smaller of the two in a warm and loving embrace.

“You know, we’re going to get made fun of by your sister when we wake up.” 

Blake smiled down at Ruby gentle dozing, lips parted slightly as breath consistently wafted out through them in small bursts. Blake nuzzles the top of Ruby’s head as she felt a yawn come on, and her own eyelids feeling strangely heavy despite not only moments before.

“But this is more than worth it.”

Blake dipped her head down and planted a kiss on Ruby’s brow. 

“Sweetest of dreams, my Rose Petal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed as always.
> 
> A quick update! Primarily due to the combination of being energised and this being a shorter and easier chapter to formulate, but an update nevertheless.
> 
> There isn't much to talk about here. It's harmless, cute and intimate flirting. LadyBug fans have been waiting long enough for this, so I'm giving you plenty of it as a reward for your patience. Hope it's satisfactory.
> 
> Awww, poor Blake. Robbed of a kiss. I'm sure she'll recover in time, haha.


	35. Machinations of their Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plotting of Vale's downfall begins.

The entire room was a deep, dark obsidian colour; foreboding and intimidating. Light barely flickered enough to illuminate what was beyond two or maybe three metres at maximum. The room was thin and lanky; appearing claustrophobic and domineering. Stepping into the room was like that of a Lion’s den, except far less hospitable. Candlesticks ran along the flanks of either side of the room, their flames flickering and dancing faintly above everyone’s heads.

The Windowpanes stretched nearly the entire height of the walls, although for what purpose nobody could quite figure out for themselves. Sunlight never seemed to shine and the landscape outside was the same dull, dark and dreary obsidian as what the castle they all resides in appeared to be made out of. The carving and construction surely would have taken years to complete even with considerable manpower and modern architectural design and building methods. Then again, the owner didn’t fall prey to petty human limitations. Not with her power. 

The number of people occupying it was small, outnumbering the long dining table that matched the shape of the room spanning a decent proportion of the room; housing 7 seats, 3 on either side and one at the head. 

They all waited patiently, not exchanging anything beyond cursory glances and privately exchanged words with whomever they trusted. Factionalism had clearly taken root within the group. Trust wasn’t the only thing they lacked between them all, this was not a place for friends or comrades. They were an alliance at best, and even that stretched the bonds of the group. They were a loose collective all seeking different ends and goals but obeying without question all the same. That was their one binding thread. Allegiance to the cause. 

An alter rounded off the end of the room; adjacent to the large pair of doors that spanned the entire height of the room. The alter was littered with skulls, covered in a black blanketing with what could only be described as cryptically Satanic etchings glowing from red to purple. 

Lightning struck faintly in the distance along with the rolling roar of thunder petering out as it headed towards the horizon, distracting the occupants in the room whom lacked patience or grew bored whilst waiting. 

Suddenly, the doors to the room blew upon with a powerful gust of wind; swinging violently on the hinges and yet never threatening to break free. Dark shadows and aura bled flew the freshly open pathway, hissing and slithering like snakes. They didn’t creep far beyond the source of their emergence, sticking relatively close to the edge of the jet-black robe they secreted from. She hovered through the room, gliding like a bird taking flight. She moved methodically however, there was no haste or thrust to her own movements trailing along with a casual freedom that contrasted the powerful gust she created to unlock the doors before her. It didn’t suggest she possessed human limbs, or at least legs or feet, but the company she kept; employed; or blackmailed weren’t stupid enough to even contemplate investigating. 

Not the ones who lived, anyway. 

All gazes were transfixed upon her entirely phantom-white porcelain skin; whiter than the first flakes of snow in winter and deader than a brigade of soldiers charging over Dead-Man’s Land in a vain attempt at victory. Dark red veins ran across the surface of her skin like venom pulsating on a dying man. It littered nearly every inch of skin that was visible to the gaggle surveying her every movement, even surrounding her glowing crimson eyes. Whenever she would pass one of them, coming so close that dark mass of shadow emanating from her base seemed to dark out like a starving animal trying to nip at their feet, their hearts would pause and their breaths would still. Even the bravest would feel a shiver run up their necks at her mere presence. They knew better to be brave, bravery meant defiance. And defiance, well…

That always proved to be a bloody mess.

She finally came to a halt at the altar. Her hands were neatly folded on top of one-another as she stared into the glowing mass of ancient scrawling’s only she could begin to understand. They predated everything humans had ever created. She took a morbid sense of humour in what humans considered “ancient” and “resilient”. It made sense from their perspective, such short and pointless lives would see the walls of a Kingdom like Vale or Atlas as old and strong when they couldn’t even see out a century. They didn’t know true resilience.

She had seen out hundreds of centuries through sheer boredom alone. Strength, especially the human definition, would not bring them victory. Nothing would.

She at last turned towards her subjects to address them, eyes scanning over every single one of them to take stock like they were cattle before finally settling her vision on her pride and joy; her personally crafted jewel; her instrument of degeneration and deception: 

Cinder Fall.

She should feel pride for Cinder. She was strong, powerful like she had always dreamt, wise and cunning, a natural plotter and devious to the bone. She should be proud. But she had failed her once again.

“Cinder. Did I not tell you to only return once you had the Relic in hand?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Cinder’s eyes were staring down the dark marbled floor below, nearly losing herself in their distorted reflection of herself. She felt shame at returning, but she had a good reason. She didn’t take a seat at the table, she didn’t deserve it. She was loathing herself and her failures. She had the Fall Maiden’s powers after training for so long and all it had done was prevent her from dying because of those nuisances Yang Xiao Long and Silver Aloi. 

Besides her stood Mercury Black, one of her trusted lieutenants. Across from them, leaning against the wall, his own eyes wide and disbelieving at what he was seeing, was Lucian. 

Cinder could understand his shock at everything he was seeing and learning. It was one thing to take over from Adam, it was another to see who and what was calling the shots. To see how much history was fabricated. To learn the monsters under your bed weren’t fake. 

And next to her, sat down not in one of the seats surrounding the meeting table but in a wheelchair; was Emerald Sustrai. Her injury at the hands of Silver Aloi proved debilitating, and even that was an understatement. General prognosis suggested the ankle and foot were entirely useless. Amputation was a more optimistic option at this point. Cinder wanted to blame Emerald for her failure. Lambast her, deride her, make her feel like dirt; only to build her confidence up again just so when she knocked Emerald back down immediately after it hurt her so much worse. It made Cinder euphoric, and she was so good at doing it and Emerald was so gullible and easy to cut down and made to feel like she didn’t belong and wasn’t good enough to lick Cinder’s heels. And the best part? No matter how many times Cinder did it, no matter how much it made Emerald cry and hate herself, Emerald would always look up at Cinder like she worshiped her. Like the ground she walked on was hallowed. That adoration and unconditional love was such a useful tool. 

And yet for once, that wasn’t how Cinder felt. She couldn’t bring herself to feel that way. Perhaps it was because amidst all the chaos and confusion, the whirlwind of failure and frustration at letting Linen Blanc and her chances of bringing Vale and Ozpin to their knees slip through her fingers, it was Emerald whom had secured her redemption. Maybe it was because in the face of adversity Emerald’s sturdy and steadfast loyalty was invaluable to her. Or maybe, just perhaps, the twinge in her chest meant something more towards Emerald than mere anxiety as to whether or not Emerald would simply be useful.

But there was no use in getting caught up in a conflict with her own emotions, especially when her Master and teacher was staring her down like she was a deer in the headlights. And Salem certainly wasn’t about to hit the brakes.

“So, pray tell, why are you back? Empty. Handed.” Salem’s jaw soon became and tight, words harsh, and stare burning with both dissatisfaction and anger. Cinder did her best not to flinch. Never break or crack when under pressure and never let anyone expose your weakness, especially yourself. Salem had taught her that, after all.

“I apologize. I know I’ve let you down. Again. But what we’ve recovered may be the key to our victory!” Cinder spoke quick, and to the point. None of her manufactured and scripted parlance she could spend days orchestrating. She understood her own life could be on the line. She may have been the Fall Maiden and Salem’s closest confidant, but those things could be replaced. Cinder was finite, but her powers certainly weren’t. Any girl could, and would, inherit them. Anybody could be the puppet, she was just lucky enough to be chosen.

There appeared to be a relaxation to Salem’s posture, sliding back into her seat, though her eyes and their scrutinising stare never left Cinder for an instance.

“Go on.”

Cinder reached into her pocket and quickly retrieved Silver’s scroll, clicking the home button to light it up and presented it to Salem, before sliding it across the table over to her leader.

“That’s Aloi’s scroll. It has the ability to remotely deactivate all of Vale’s defences. All of them. The entire Kingdom would be at our mercy, crippled. All I need…” Cinder’s eyes drifted over to one of the other members of their council who was in attendance, sat off to her left with his fingers tented. 

His skin was tanned and darker than most, which was surprising given he was a native of Atlas and its cold climate. He had a busy moustache that covered most of his upper lip, but couldn’t hide that disingenuous, pompous, arrogant shit-eating-grin he always wore when he knew he had Cinder in his back-pocket. He just _loved_ it when she needed his help. It was an admission, or at least evidence, that he was superior to her. Cinder didn’t mind him believing that. Let him have his delusions and fantasies, he was still of use overall. 

“…Is for someone to unlock it. It seems to be heavily encrypted along with requiring a passcode. With that in hand, Vale- and beacon- will be completely at our mercy.” Cinder explained, before standing back, waiting for Salem to judge her proposal and hope it would be her saving grace.

“I do hope there is more to this plan. Because this alone, Cinder, is woeful at best if you’re trying to make up for your litany of mistakes.” Watts jibed back at Cinder, earning him a scowl and a sneer from her as he just smiled wide for her.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Cinder gestured over to Lucian, who finally stopped leaning against the wall to walk over and join her cohort of minions and schemers. He was still nursing his hand, now missing two of his fingers, but he was very much alive. 

“Before my own operation in Vale began I was running raids on Atlas black-sites and covert mobile bases. I happened to find the base in question that was running their experiments on infusing aura with a mechanised soldier. I downloaded the blueprints and research notes before scuttling the place. We could build a small force, a strike force, to puncture Vale’s walls and sow panic. That will attract the Grimm and get their attention. At the same time, my Chapter of the White Fang will use the Bullheads we’ve captured from the Atlesian military and attack Vale’s city centre, targeting the civilian population. That will enflame Human-Faunus tensions, which will not just be useful for my own movement but the yours as well with the negative emotion increasing the aggression of the Grimm and the frequency of their own attacks.” Lucian elucidated the council on the details of his own role.

“And whilst all this is happening, it will give us the perfect opportunity to sneak in, undetected and disable both their Anti-Grimm defences along with their CCT tower to further throw them into disarray. It will additionally prevent team SLVR from reactivating the defence towers with their own scrolls remotely. 

“With the amount of negative emotion, their defences down, Ozpin will have no choice but to send his own students onto the frontlines to confront the invading Grimm. And Beacon, along with its Relic, will be ours. I will walk in and walk out. No surprises. No Team SLVR getting the better of us this time.” Cinder finally allowed the silence to settle back in, waiting on someone to respond. She took it as a good sign to see Watts giving her proposition actual thought. Usually he would be snide and dismissive, but he actually appeared to be on board. Of course, his opinion wasn’t the one that mattered. 

Salem held her chin in hand, looking away in thought, before her eyes snapped up and she spoke. “Arthur, is it possible?”

“Anything’s possible, your Majesty.” He responded curtly.

“Then is it _feasible?_ ” Salem asked, this time less patience in her voice as he leaned in, eyes glowing as a warning. 

Watts knew well to bow his head in shame for daring to chastise her or play word games. She demanded absolute respect. Cinder couldn’t help but smirk, if she was going to lose standing at all with Salem as least she knew Watts wasn’t getting away with a clean slate either. The best part, of course, was that Watts would be the credible voice of validation for her absolution. It must have been tearing him up, knowing he would be the one getting her off the hook. 

“Yes. Of course. It will take some time, but assuming the data is reliable,” 

“It is reliable. I had to kill a lot of humans to get that information.” Lucian bit back, defensively.

“I wouldn’t have thought that would be a problem for you?” Watts teased.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love killing your detestable species. But it can get very tedious when they don’t fight back. I can add you to that list, if you’d like?” Lucian goaded back.

Watts simply rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Salem. “If that’s the case then I should be able to produce the Androids. They can attack Beacon’s walls without being targeted by the Anti-Grimm defences and puncture a hole into the city. The phone hacking also shouldn’t prove a problem. I doubt the person who encrypted it will prove an adequate match for myself.”

Salem once against left herself to her thought, keeping everyone on the edge of their seats. Cinder could feel the pulse in her neck from how frightened she was. But she didn’t let it show, and if she did, nobody was paying her any mind anyway. After a torturous few minutes, Salem finally acknowledged the young woman. 

“Understand, Cinder, that I have been far too lenient with you. Should this plan of yours not come to fruition and not succeed; you will be made to pay the price. Is. That. Clear?” Salem’s words dripped with venom, and yet they were not wholly callous or heartless. Cinder was getting a warning, which was more than most would be afforded. 

“I understand, your Majesty. I won’t fail you.” Cinder said, knowing her word counted for little, especially with her two past failings. She was determined to see it through this time, however. She couldn’t afford not to.

“Then if that is all…” Salem began, before leaving some space for anyone else to interject before she continued on.

“I would ask for one last thing, your Majesty.” Lucian said, raising his undamaged hand.

“Speak, child.” She gestured for him to continue. “You have been successful where Cinder has not, so you have earnt my favour, or at the least: My ear.”

“In my last battle with Belladonna, she cut my fingers off.” Lucian said, lifting up his bandaged hand, ending in two stumps where his middle and ring fingers should be. 

“Indeed. That would prove hindering for you in future engagements. I expect our dear Doctor Watts would be of some help, wouldn’t you?” Salem said, smiling at Watts as he sighed, enjoying his dissatisfaction with being overwhelmed with duties. It wasn’t like he had much choice regardless.

“It wouldn’t prove difficult. From the looks of the injury I could probably just reattach some spare fingers. Wouldn’t require a prosthetic pair, that would be too much work. My experimental equipment should suffice in bringing him back up to 100%.” Watts spoke, though mainly only for himself. He did love the sound of his own voice.

“Good…I don’t care if it’s robotic, metal, flesh and bone or anything else…I just want to wrap my fingers around that bitch’s throat and watch the life drain from her…!” Lucian said, demonstrating exactly what he’d do to the thin air in front of him as his hands shook in anticipation and rage at the thought of Blake Belladonna. 

“Good lord, you fanatics are all the same, especially with that Belladonna girl. Different Faunus, same story. Try something besides genocide, for once. Try knitting.” Watts retorted, inspecting the back of his gloved hand dismissively. 

“You ignorant human filth…!” Lucian growled.

“Enough!” Salem said, slamming her fist down onto the table, generating powerful vibrations and shaking to emanate throughout the entire building, glasses toppled, plates jittered, windows creaked and the brick and mortar of the castle seemed to groan in insecurity. Naturally, the conversation came to an abrupt end. “Is there anything else, or can your childish bickering be brought to a close?”

Lucian gulped back his fear, trying to find his courage again at the otherworldly power Salem displayed in a simple gesture. It made him realize he wasn’t dealing with an ordinary would-be ruler of the world; he was dealing with a monster. A primordial being from the very depths of hell. Showing her disrespect was a quick way to losing his head, never mind his fingers.

Once his fears subsided, one more striking thought hit Lucian with such prominence, he almost felt like insulting himself for nearly forgetting it.

“T-There’s one last thing. The girl.” Lucian spoke, cryptically, earning the raised eyebrows of everyone in attendance.

“The girl?” Cinder repeated, not sure herself. 

“Yes. The one with magic, calling herself a god.” Lucian elucidated. Salem sharply stood to her full height, the hissing of the darkness raising several octaves in response to her sudden display of emotion. 

“Magic?!” She exclaimed, eyes burning a hole through the back of Lucian’s head. “Chose your words carefully, boy. They might be your last.”

“She’s like Cinder, a Maiden, or whatever you want to call it.” Lucian spoke quick, trying to keep the shiver in his voice to a minimum. Something about Salem spiked the fear inside him like nothing else, and he couldn’t begin to understand why. It was like she was fear incarnate.

“A Maiden…? Which one?” Salem asked.

“One?” Lucian repeated, unsure what Salem was implying. 

“There are four Maidens for the four Relics. Each a key to their corresponding Relic. Which one was she? Spring? Winter?” Salem urged.

Lucian cast his mind back, searching for an answer to the question he didn’t even know existed. He didn’t believe in this nonsense of deities. Yes, Salem was a nightmarish monster with absurdly terrifying powers, but somebody didn’t need to be a god to be strong. It was all smoke and mirrors, technology, something, but not that of a God. Regardless, he felt afraid as if Salem were a god, and that was enough to keep him in line. 

In the back of his mind something was niggling at Lucian. A memory, of the last day he saw his predecessor alive, Adam Taurus. He encountered Team SLVR that day, observing Viridian Aurora’s skirmish with Adam. He ran with his fellow White Fang comrades from the grief at losing their leader and the realisation they were outclassed. Something she said stuck with him, even to that day.

_**“I am Viridian Aurora! Maiden of Summer and a ray of frenetic light to all those seeking hope whom are born unto the darkness! You will fear the Summer’s Dawn or die knowing its wrath!”** _

“Summer! She’s the Maiden of Summer!” Lucian blurted out upon remembering, and Salem slowly sunk back into her seat, contemplating the information she had been given. “Her name was Viridian Aurora.”

Salem’s contemplative and rather neutral expression soon deteriorated into a scowl, practically snarling at the notion as her free hand balled into a tight and shaking fist oozing with dusky energy. 

“How did Ozpin find her so quickly? And without _**ME** _knowing about it? The last Summer Maiden died over a decade ago. Where did that power go? Disappearing for so long, it shouldn’t have been possible. Ozpin, you underhanded old fool…” Salem snarled quietly to herself, before whipping her head over to the seat by her left-hand side: Occupied by a tall and lanky man; thin as a pencil and twitching erratically as he mumbled incoherently to himself. “Tyrian.” Salem said commandingly, and for the first time it appeared like her was lucid enough to pay attention to his surroundings.__

____

____

“Yes, my Queen?” His voice was disturbing and predatory, unhinged and on the edge of being maniacal. It sent a shiver up Lucian’s spine, reminding him of Viridian’s voice and her psychotic utterings. The company Cinder kept certainly put him on edge, and that was certainly no simple accomplishment. But working for her had furthered his own cause, so he would put up with it. For a time.

“Find the Maiden. This, Viridian,” His eyes widened, excited as he rasped his fingers together and tented them in pleasure at his own machinations- whatever they may be, most likely disturbing to anyone but himself- and giggled. “And bring her to me. Alive.”

Tyrian slumped in his seat, pouting momentarily like a child, before smiling back to Salem and giving his confirmation. It was unnerving and off-putting how his entire disposition to wildly swung from side to side like the face of a coin.

“Alive?” Cinder questioned, fearing for her own position. She was a Maiden after all, they didn’t need another. Not now, anyway, and she was promised all their powers at once. Bringing Viridian back alive was disconcerting, to say the least.

“Our previous attempt at stealing a Maiden’s powers out in the open greatly delayed our plans, in the safety of our own castle those worries will no longer be present. I will hold true to the promise I made you, Cinder.” Salem explained, and Cinder smiled, nodding her head in thanks to Salem’s reassurance. “Rest assured, you will be powerful. No-one will look down on you like before and abuse you, so long as you stay loyal. And are successful in what I ask of you.”

“I won’t fail you.” Cinder responded, bowing her head in respect of her instructor and Mistress.

“I believe our business here is concluded then...” Salem’s eyes stared straight forward, moving to Cinder’s flank to stare at the green-haired girl beside her. Cinder could feel her heart freeze in her chest as Salem’s expression darkened and hardened on the spot. “As for you, child, it would appear you have lived beyond your usefulness because of that injury. It would be best if I were to eliminate…”

“NO!” Cinder shouted, the loud and defiant refutation of what Salem was about to say escaping her throat without her consent. 

If the silence protruding throughout the room was discomforting before; it was deafening now. Even Salem seemed to be left in a state of bewilderment in place of what one would have assumed should be anger, her eyes wide with disbelief. Cinder couldn’t begin to understand why she so hastily came to Emerald’s defence, she simply did.

“I’m sorry, what I meant to say was: That’s not true, your Majesty, Emerald is still pivotal to my plans in Vale. She’s…irreplaceable.” Cinder’s words came out unequivocally romantic. Her defence of Emerald was stalwart, and unnecessary. Not long ago she was enjoyably stringing Emerald along by her misplaced affections, and now she was standing in the way of a figurative train barrelling straight for the two of them. It would be likely that Salem would interpret this as a slight upon her honour as opposed to a desperate attempt for Cinder to keep her most trusted lieutenant at her side. And everyone knew what happened to those who slighted Salem. 

If these were going to be Cinder’s last moments she wanted to try and at least understand the source of her reluctance to simply let Emerald go. She already had procured herself a second chance alongside Mercury and Lucian, losing Emerald shouldn’t be that hard of a thing to do. She wasn’t a tremendous loss, and her use was logically at its end. Her semblance was no longer needed in bringing Vale to its knees. Maybe it could have been the loyalty, the unflinching respect and devotion towards Cinder. She could always replace Emerald with another, there had to be plenty of street-urchins who were angry at the world for how it had accosted them. Even so, Cinder couldn’t quite let go. Maybe it was Emerald’s reliance on Cinder. Maybe Cinder liked the idea of someone needing her, actually needing her, no strings attached and unconditionally. 

“So be it then.” Salem finally said, sighing and sinking her chin into her palm as she propped it up upon the table, relinquishing any pretext of her austere disposition up to this point. “You’re on your last chance as it is, Cinder. It won’t matter if she dies now or if you fail.” Salem rolled her eyes in Watts’ direction, who was already sighing himself from vexation.

“It’s too badly damaged for rehabilitation or surgery. Not with the timeline for your operation in Vale. I’ll just replace it with a prosthetic.” Watts informed them.

“That will suffice.” Cinder nodded curtly, before leaning down to Emerald’s height, leaning into the girl’s ear. “I’ve risked a lot for you, understand?”

Cinder’s voice had regained its edge and sharpness; teeth shining like blades as they hovered above Emerald’s ear. It was a test of determination; to see if Emerald was still as devoted to Cinder as ever. She was seeing if she would buck at the slightest bit of pressure being applied. Cinder didn’t care how Emerald felt about the cause, Emerald never had. It had always been about Cinder. Her approval, her recognition, her admiration, her love. That’s where it began and ended for Emerald. Cinder was trying to emphasise that Emerald owed her everything, and now even a second life. 

“I understand. I won’t let you down.” Emerald said, a certainty to her whispered tone.

“I expect nothing less, my wonderful gem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always and I hope you enjoyed~!
> 
> To those wondering, as of this chapter I have renamed the story to something I believe more fitting. I've been wrestling with the idea for a while, since it was kind of a joke title when getting into character for writing Yang's perspective. I'm much happier with this, hopefully nobody has any trouble finding the story.
> 
> Wow, another chapter huh? I've been quite productive and motivated lately, so I managed to churn another one out. A departure from the fluff and happiness as of late, but we knew the Villains would allow our heroes to rest on their laurels, would they?
> 
> This chapter saw the debut of Salem within this story, who was previously a peripheral character that sort of acted as a Deus Ex Machina for character motivation. Everyone talked of her as the motivating factor for doing what they're doing, but we've never had her directly interact with the series. Obviously, she's the main antagonist so I had to make her come across as terrifying, making even someone who's a hardcore atheist like Lucian quake in his boots and make him question his aversion to believing in a deity. She's obviously a terrifying figure who demands respect and loyalty, with a short fuse and sets a high bar for the expectations she has of those directly under her command.
> 
> I also delved into the factionalism of her council. We have to remember these are our villains, and they're not here because of some collective goal. They're outcasts, opportunists and those who can't succeed under the current system of heroic valiance, honour, democracy and liberty. Naturally they seek to uproot it for their own ambitions, and such they're not always going to be friendly. I hardly even call them allies, they're just there for their own sake in which Salem will reward them for bending the knee to her and following orders.
> 
> Cinder's seemingly on her last chance with Salem, at least before she's punished. That means the pressure is on for her to succeed. Will she bring Vale to its knees and deliver unto Salem Beacon's Relic? Time will tell.
> 
> It would also seem like Tyrian is going after Viridian à la Tyrian vs Ruby from Volume 4. Good luck, Viri.
> 
> And yes, I gave hints of Cinder x Emerald that I planted a while ago. I don't know if the soil is fertile for their relationship to grow into something healthy given their circumstances, what, being evil and all but somehow Viridian and Silver literally made psychopathy viable in their relationship so what do I know?


End file.
